The Wanderer's End
by IrishRed5
Summary: The Lone Wanderer was widely known for his heroic acts both the war with the Enclave as well as random acts. A mysterious faction immerges in the void of power left open in the Capitol wasteland Their intent is unknown. As time goes on the Wanderer finds himself battling to save everything he has left. Or will his secrets be his downfall? Formerly known as 'Missing'
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters with the exception of a few OCs. Nor do I own the fallout 3 story… though I wish I did. Those are the work of the brilliant minds at Bethesda Softworks.**

**This is my first fanfic, though I have since revised the earlier chapters. This one is short since I am setting the stage. Read and review, and most of all… Enjoy. **

Sarah Lyons and Paladin Glade were sitting in the Bailey mowing down their meals with reckless abandon. The old pre-war radio played nearby, echoing off of the machinery and concrete walls. Glade turned it up as Galaxy News Radio switched to its famous host, Three Dog.

"Hello Capital Wasteland! This is Three Dog! OWWWWW! There have been rumors floating around the Wastes! Where oh, where has our savior gone? My guess is as good as yours!"

She was in a rather foul mood and wasn't in the mood for Three Dog's usual beating around the bush. She never pegged the popular, and only, living radio host in the Capital Wasteland as the religious type. Given his background, he of all people knew the harshness of the Wastes. Religion wasn't especially common in the wastes, especially the Brotherhood. Many had lost faith after seeing so many atrocities, death, and horrors, belief in greater power diminishes fast.

While Sarah didn't consider herself an Atheist, Colvin had labeled her as such, mostly as a joke since she was always planning for the worst. Despite this, Sarah allowed Colvin to carry on that joke… to a point, and as long as he continued to do his job with excellence. Sarah stabbed her fork clear through the cram and into the metal plate with a dull clink.

"Turn that shit off!" Sarah grumbled, to Glade. There was a lot on her mind and the radio noise prevented her from focusing.

Glade reached to shut the radio off but after Three Dog continued withdrew his armored hand.

"I'm not talking about Jesus, ladies and gents!"

Sarah stared at the radio, puzzled, _"Then what is he babbling about?" _she thought.

"Our dear friend and hero, Mr.101 has disappeared without a trace! No one has seen or heard a word from him in over a month! As a result Raiders have been hitting caravans hard and slavers have been resurfacing! So be careful out there, _chil_dren! The Wastes are still deadly! And Lone Wanderer, if you're out there, your people need ya! Until next time, this is Three Dog signing off. Galaxy News Radio, bringing you the truth, no matter how _bad _it is."

As the radio played a sorrowful tune, Sarah stared at it in disbelief. Her mind was racing with questions. Sarah and the Pride had set out a month ago to take care if the last of the Super Mutants in the Capital area. As exhausting as it was it had been an overall success. This particular subject had been eating at her all morning. Neal not showing up to join up with the Pride for a mutant raid wasn't all that uncommon, but the fact that he hadn't checked in at any point during the month long ordeal was disconcerting. Sarah suddenly lost her appetite. She avoided looking at Glade as she briskly walked off to ask her father what he knew of this. 

Fawkes sat on the dirty pre-war couch in his friend's shoddy home in Megaton. It felt like he had been moping around town for ages. No, it hadn't been ages, and he knew exactly what it was like to be stuck in the same place for years on end. This was not even close. He had gotten used to the action and travel of tagging along with the great Lone Wanderer and this uncharacteristically long hiatus was rare at best.

He and Charon had been told to wait in Megaton. Despite their disproval, Neal was adamant he needed to do this alone.

Well, not entirely alone, after all he did take Dogmeat with him. Charon had tried to talk him out of such a suspicious situation, but it seemed Vault 101 was Neal's weakness. Despite previously resolving the Vault's problems without conflict, Neal's childhood sweetheart, Amata banished him from his former home forever. The part that had particularly hit him hard was the manner in which she kicked him out. He left with hardly so much as a thank you. This made sense to Fawkes, he had once known what that felt like, though those memories had since gone fuzzy. It also made it more difficult to understand why Neal would want to return to such a place of pain.

Fawkes had idolized his godlike friend's lack of weakness. He had always proven to be damn near indestructible in the past. It seemed that nothing could dampen Neal's iron-clad will. It was damn near impossible for those who met him not to be inspired by or follow him.

The door opened and Fawkes perked up. He half-expected his friend and leader would walk through, but to his dismay, the door revealed Charon with a glum look on his decayed face.

Charon said nothing, only shaking his head. It was like this every day. No word, or even a trace of the Lone Wanderer. Charon had remembered his master expressing suspicion about the more recent vault transmission. Where there had been a voice before, there was only the automated portion of the transmission. There had been a password in the previous transmission whereas now, there were no clues as to what was happening or how to solve it.

Charon's brainwashing had slowly begun to eat at him. He had no idea what to do with himself when his master vanished. The contract was simple and straightforward. Obey your master at all times. Do as he says without question. Though Charon had found loopholes, he hadn't found a reason to kill his most recent master upon contract termination. With the Lone Wanderer, Charon never worried that what he was being asked to do was dishonorable. He just wished he had something to do other than sit and guard a house no one dared to enter.

Charon recalled the day the great Neal Washington, famously known as the Lone Wanderer had returned from his former home. He had spent the next few weeks drinking heavily, and at one point raised his trusty Blackhawk pistol to his right temple, intending to pull the trigger. Charon had prepared to move back to Underworld that day, knowing very well he seriousness of the Wanderer's state. Gob and Nova were able to talk him down, much to his surprise. They had sent for a Brotherhood soldier by the name of Cross. The soldier seemed to have a deep connection with Neal. Despite his apathetic behavior, Charon didn't want his friend to die. He had enjoyed doing good for a change. At least not while Charon wasn't fighting by his side.

Fawkes stood and walked to his right. His massive 8-foot tall frame dwarfing the various pre-war furniture that dotted the living room.

He went up to the bobble head stand and stared at the Vault Dweller that was looking off into the distance with one hand shading his eyes. Fawkes looked at the ghoul that frequently accompanied him throughout the Wanderer's adventures. Without even a word, the two gathered their weapons and armor and walked from the scrap metal house. The relatively quiet mutant companions had a way of knowing what the other was thinking. They had waited long enough. Vault 101 was their destination. Fawkes hefted his high powered Gatling laser, Vengeance, as well as his beloved super sledge. Charon carried the Terrible Shotgun as well as a Chinese assault rifle for rapid fire situations. Charon's armor was customized by his master. It was a patchwork of improved leather, metal and other pieces that were beyond his understanding, but it vastly improved his performance in battle as well as his chances of surviving a critical hit.

"_Neal is missing? How the hell could that be? I was only gone a few weeks, and all this happens?" _Sarah tried to assure herself that he had probably run off on a mission of some kind and that there was a logical explanation for his absence.

Things between the Brotherhood's finest and the illustrious Lone Wanderer had been much different since that fateful day at the purifier.

When Neal volunteered to turn on the purifier, Sarah was shocked. She had known that he was incredibly talented and good-hearted. She hadn't particularly liked him at first, especially since he seemed to waltz on in and earn a spot in the Brotherhood that everyone else had worked their asses off to earn.

But voluntarily laying down his life for the cruel, unforgiving wastes had showed Sarah just how incredible he really was.

_It was right then she had realized her true feelings for him. As he punched in the code and stumbled towards the window near her, choking as the radiation slowly poisoned him. She placed her hand on the window, letting her tears flow freely for the first time. The first time in God only knows when._

_As the life began to ebb away from Neal, a crooked, pained, smile trickled across his face as he placed his hand in the same place as she. She knew he felt the same as he met her gaze. Blinking sleepily as if fighting away imaginary cobwebs from his icy blue eyes. As he faded, he fell to his knees. The last thing Sarah remembers of that day was a blast, knocking her out cold._

Sarah burst into her father's office with a determined look on her face.

Elder Lyons was busy listening to Paladin Gunny's report. Gunny sensed it was a conversation he shouldn't be involved in. He saluted Elder Lyons and Sarah before exiting.

"Sarah, what is it?" he asked taking note of the look on her face, he knew exactly what was wrong.

"I just heard on the radio that the Lone Wanderer is missing. Is it true? Has no one really heard from him in a month?" Sarah asked, hiding the concern from her face.

He instantly saw right through her façade. He knew about Sarah and Neal, in fact, he and the Pride both knew. Elder Lyons liked Neal a quite a bit, in fact Neal reminded him a lot of himself. Neal was willing to do the difficult things that the Brotherhood's code cushioned its soldiers from doing. Despite preferring to travel alone, or with his own handpicked companions, Neal was quite the natural leader. The relationship between Sarah and Neal hadn't posed any problems as far as their work. Their priorities were in the right place. As a result, the Pride and Elder Lyons secretly agreed to pretend not to know and let it slide.

"I am afraid we can't discuss it here, but it will be brought up in Friday's meeting." Elder Lyons said, sitting down at his desk.

Sarah nodded and exited, her disappointment obvious.

He felt bad for avoiding the question, but the truth was the Lone Wanderer was missing, and he didn't know how to tell Sarah. He knew how much it would hurt her. He shook his head at disappointment in himself. Being the Elder meant he was forced to be the bearer of bad news, even to his own kin. He could hear Sarah's metal fist pound the wall once she was out of the room. She was no doubt going to find Star Paladin Cross.

Owyn called to mind a discussion he had been forced to discuss with Neal. As a father and an Elder he always had to be planning for the worst. Sitting Neal down and forcing a talk about his relationship with Owyn's daughter had been a tense and quite awkward hour and a half. Neal had been quite open with the Elder. Cross had also been present, being Elder Lyons' bodyguard and the only real family with the exception of Madison Li, that Neal had left. That day they had sworn secretive pact for the future of the Brotherhood of Steel should the worst come to pass. Recalling that day, Lyons' knew the Wanderer's disappearance would make that pact invalid. No one else could do what was asked of the Lone Wanderer.

**I've added in a few more details that will come up in later chapters that were not previously there. The relationship between the Wanderer and Star Paladin Cross was something I overlooked mostly because she died in my playthrough and I forgot about her. She will make more appearances. Also, I tried to make Fawkes and Charon more accurate.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**IR5**


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter was also edited to add some more content and improve the overall quality. I paid special attention to the characters and researched their background quite a bit. Hopefully that will improve things. Read and review… and of course enjoy!**

* * *

Charon and Fawkes stepped outside of Megaton's gate. Charon pulled his Chinese assault rifle from his back and scanned the land. It was midnight, and the full moon lit up the land and casting ominous shadows. He looked north and spotted the outcroppings of the destroyed buildings of the pre-war ghost town, Springvale. Charon set out on the road towards Springvale with Fawkes in tow.

As the road cut into the town, Charon and Fawkes snuck behind the rocks next to the destroyed remains of a pre-war house. There were still suitcases on the front steps from 200 years ago. It was apparent the home's residents were a little late with their packing, as their ancient skeletons were scattered within. Charon looked north knowing that raiders loved to set up base in the Springvale Elementary School. Charon, Neal, and Fawkes had cleared the place out countless times, but the raiders always seemed to find their way back. Charon motioned for Fawkes to stay put, and stepped out from behind the rocks and headed up the deserted street, taking cover behind the tin Megaton sign that sat in front of the remains of the service station. Charon checked behind him to see if Fawkes had listened and saw Fawkes staying put, wielding Vengeance. Charon resumed to checking for raiders seeing one walking around aimlessly with a hunting rifle in hand. Since the raider had not spotted him Charon stepped out from behind the sign, took aim and fired a 3-shot burst at the raider. Two shots hit their mark on the raider's chest, and the third went high hitting the raider's throat. He fell to ground, his gurgling noises drowned by the whistling night winds.

Charon scanned the terrain for more enemies when suddenly he was startled by Fawkes's signature battle cry. A raider had attempted a poorly executed surprise attack on the Super Mutant. Fawkes clubbed the bald raider to the ground with his super sledge and bashed his brains in yelling, "YOU LOSE!" Fawkes turned his attention to Charon, returning his sledge to his back. Charon looked to the road going east, and nodded in its direction. They followed the road being wary of the shadows cast by the rocks along the road cast.

Finally, they came to the trail leading to the Vault door. Charon cursed at the sight he saw, "Shit…"

* * *

Sarah slipped into her gray fatigues, which consisted of a t-shirt and sweatpants. She had almost forgotten what they felt like. A month straight in mutant territory did that to her. The comfort of something besides of power armor was usually enough to put her in a working mood, but given the current circumstances she barely noticed them.

Star Paladin Cross sat at her station near the remains of Liberty Prime. Lately, her tasks besides protecting the Elder was to recover the pieces of the colossal robot as well as pieces to fix it. Sarah could see the boredom in Cross' menial job. If the job wasn't boring enough, Sarah couldn't imagine being a cyborg like the aging woman. Cross never slept. But then again she wasn't exactly alive. It was something the Star Paladin had come to better terms with upon meeting Neal again. The infant boy she had once escorted to safety. Sarah could tell the prodigious Lone Wanderer's disappearance had hit Cross hard as well, though she tried to hide it.

"Sentinel," the Star Paladin said, her dark complexion especially pale. She looked exhausted.

"Star Paladin," Sarah said with a salute. "I think you know why I'm here." Cross nodded slowly. "Yes." She was all she said, appearing to be in thought.

"I'm not sure what to do about this," Sarah said. "Everyone seems to think this is just like when he went to Pittsburg or Baltimore, but I get the feeling this is different. I don't know how to convince everyone at the meeting tomorrow that he's just not off on another quest."

Cross tread carefully. She knew she needed to ask the questions others surely would, "How do you know this _is _any different than before?"

Sarah looked down for a moment, collecting her thoughts, "He's been acting strange lately. Ever since he came back from Baltimore. You were with us when we went and got him from the riverboat. Something happened there… Something bad. He's never been the same."

Cross recalled the pretty teenager named Nadine who had come to the Citadel. At first the sentries had told her to leave, but when she presented the Wanderer's tags Sarah, Colvin, and Cross had all went to recover the unconscious and badly wounded Lone Wanderer. It was that moment when they discovered him that really set into perspective for her how much Sarah and Neal cared for one another.

Sarah remembered how close he was dying all too well. She knew how he felt those two weeks when she was out cold from the purifier blast.

"Before I left he kept having these night terrors. Babbling incoherently and thrashing around. Sometimes he would even get up and walk around. I shouldn't have let him leave, Cross." Sarah said, pressing her palms to her forehead.

"Then go find him, whatever the council or your father says, I'll back you up." Cross said. "He's hated as much as he is loved, Sarah. Remember that. He has powerful enemies."

Sarah nodded strongly. "I know. Thanks Cross. I need some sleep." She was surprised how little Cross had said. Yet even though it were a small step forward, Sarah felt like the world wasn't against her.

Sarah dreamt of Neal and the time they snuck into her room together. She felt safe lying there in his arms. It was funny, the great Sarah Lyons feeling safe in a man's arms, let alone in love with a man. She was often regarded as a battle goddess. A man was the last thing she needed… or so she thought. Wait, was she in love with him, or just in love with the great things he had done? No, she loved him. There was no denying it. Neal was different from any man she had met. When she was around him, she felt a great weight taken from her shoulders. She forgot all of troubles she faced. For once, her last name meant nothing, She was just Sarah. Calm and content, she touched his scarred and calloused hands that lay at her waist. And to think the first time she met Neal he was a scrawny kid from the vault. His skills with a gun at the time were surprising, but nowhere near hers. It was amazing to think that wide-eyed kid and this one-man army lying next to her were the same person. As she snuggled into his muscular chest, she could hear his heartbeat. "You know I'd choose you, Sarah." He said, before she could even look up or say a word, the dream ended.

Sarah Lyons jolted awake with a feeling of déjà vu. That had really happened. She couldn't remember exactly what they had been talking about. Sarah thought for a moment. Then it hit her. They had been talking about the Brotherhood's code, as well as Neal's. It had been months ago. Sarah lay back on her bed with a frustrated sigh. She wondered why she had that particular dream. Was it significant? She looked over at the pre-war clock. It was early, nearly three o'clock. She rubbed her forehead wearily, knowing she needed to get some sleep. Sarah rolled over onto her stomach and attempted to fall back asleep, trying to push her swimming thoughts aside.

* * *

Charon and Fawkes ran, weapons in hand, to Dogmeat's side. Charon scanned the scene around him. Dogmeat was injured and near starving, no doubt being stranded there injured for weeks. Charon crouched to look at the unrecognizable corpse lying near the prone dog. It was a mere skeleton with a few decaying pieces of flesh remaining. Dogmeat must have eaten it to survive. Charon knew it couldn't be Neal, not only was it not his armor, there was also no way, under any circumstances, he would eat his master's corpse. Both Fawkes and Charon stared down at the armor. It was vaguely familiar but neither of them could remember where they recognized it from.

They returned their attention to Dogmeat, he whimpered and fussed with his back, right leg. It appeared to be broken, so Charon pulled a stimpak from his pack and applied it to Dogmeat's leg. Dogmeat tried to stand, but his broken leg would not permit it. He laid back down and let out a disappointed sigh. Fawkes hitched Vengeance on his back and crouched down, his massive body casting a shadow over the dog. Fawkes then put his titanic arms beneath Dogmeat and hoisted him into his chest. Charon stood and nodded to Fawkes, "I'll cover you," he said and began to walk towards Megaton. Dogmeat panted happily and licked Fawkes's arm. They began their journey back to Megaton.

Charon and Fawkes sat in Doc Church's office, it was early, nearly 7 am. Doc Church had said that he wasn't a damn vet, but would give it his best shot. The two mutants, creatures that survived without sleep, simply waited. It would be a long while before Dogmeat would be in any sort of shape to be of help. Some serious fighting had gone on at the marred landscape.

Fawkes grunted and stood as Doc Church finally, came into the room.

"It's gonna be awhile before he gets back to good health. In addition to his injuries he's malnourished, dehydrated, and exhausted. He's tough, but it'll be some time." Doc said. "Tell the Wanderer that this is gonna cost him big time."

Charon stood his rotting face irritated, "I think saving your ass from that bomb is enough." He hissed. The rotted remains of his eyebrows crinkling in irritation.

Fawkes and Charon decided they would go back to Vault 101 to do some investigating. They were anxious for some action and there was time to kill until Dogmeat would be able to shed some light on what had happened to his master.

**Until next time… CHILLLLDREN!**

**Best,**

**IrishRed5.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Again, this chapter has been revisited and revised. Hope you like the changes.**

* * *

Neal, the Lone Wanderer laid in a heap on the floor of a dark room. He could scarcely move, every inch of his body screamed in pain. Neal couldn't remember much of the past few days, everything was such a blur. He could, however, recall the pain and anguish he had felt, the desperation and pure survival instincts.

Neal scanned his wounds: broken ribs, lacerations and scratches everywhere, broken fingers and toes, and a concussion… at least. The dingy, torn clothes that scantily covered his body were streaked with dirt and blood, and dark stubble grew on his face. His mind screamed for him to get up and do something. _Anything._ But his body wouldn't respond. Neal was much too exhausted to do anything but sit there and try and make sense of where he was and what the hell he was going to do. As the gears in his mind worked, his eyes scanned the room, plotting. His head hurt so much he couldn't think, not while the pounding of a sledgehammer headache wracked his brain. Neal closed his eyes and tried to silence the pain, but it was of no avail.

* * *

The highest-ranking Brotherhood members gathered into the Solar and took their seats. One seat remained empty, like a huge Yao Guai in the corner. Though the Lone Wanderer wasn't at these meetings regularly, it was unsettling. Everyone tried their best to ignore it, knowing that this meeting was much different than numerous others.

Elder Lyons, sitting at the end of the table, cleared his throat, serving as a cue to get everyone's attention.

"So," Elder Lyons said, looking at Scribe Rothchild expectantly.

Rothchild straightened up in his seat and began to go over the routine, boring part of the meeting. Everyone hunkered down to get through it.

"So, now we will discuss the matter at hand," Elder Lyons said carefully.

Everyone sat up and snapped out of la-la land. This was what they came to discuss.

"As you all know, rumors have been spreading across the Wastes about the Lone Wanderer's whereabouts," Elder Lyons started. He felt everyone's eyes on him. He closed his eyes and swallowed down the stone of dread in his throat.

"Many of these rumors are false, but I am afraid we have no leads," his eyes darted around the room purposely skipping his daughter's face.

"But," he paused, "We must discuss our plan of action. As Neal is a member of our Brotherhood, we must decide what to do about his disappearance." Elder Lyons sat awaiting suggestions.

"We should investigate," Paladin Vargas stated.

"And where do you suggest we start, Vargas?" Rothchild said, his tone sarcastic. "We shouldn't treat this MIA case any different than any other missing knight."

"And why not?" Paladin Vargas said, clearly irritated by Rothchild's blatant apathy.

"We gave that outsider enough privilege as it is, scouring the Wastes for him just adds to it. It's unfair to the rest of the Brotherhood," Rothchild argued.

Many cringed at Rothchild's statement, though much of it rang true. Sentinel Lyons clenched her fist as hard as she could to prevent her from lashing out. She wasn't the only one pissed about that statement.

"I don't agree with Rothchild, but I do think that with our resources stretched thin, we can hardly afford to send a search party," Paladin Kodiak said, "And we all know he is more than capable of defending himself."

"So you're saying he's dead?" Knight Captain Dusk asked, adding herself to the discussion.

"No, I'm saying he's done this before. Pittsburg and Baltimore are two prime examples," Kodiak responded.

"He has a point. But he would always at least drop a hint that he was going to 'look into' things," Paladin Glade added.

Sarah had to admit, Glade had a point. Something didn't sit well; he wouldn't just leave without telling _someone._

"I know don't even want to entertain the idea, but we have to consider something has happened to him. Whether he left on his own power or another or has perished…" Rothchild said, his voice showing he didn't want to be the one to bring up the unfortunate possibility. He continued to play with the pencil that was attached to the clipboard by a crusty strong of yarn.

Elder Lyons glanced back at Cross. His bodyguard returned a weighted glance. Sarah could see something in it, but what she had no idea. As much as she hated to admit, Sarah was no more informed of her father's plans than any other Brotherhood soldier. Sarah saw Cross look at her. Their eyes met, Cross giving Sarah a nonverbal nudge in the direction of self control.

Cross could see Sarah was on the verge of losing it. The majority of frustration was towards everyone else, they had to know something. The remainder of her anger was toward herself. Why couldn't she couldn't find the words to convince them of her suspicions.

This meeting wasn't going the way she had hoped, and she debated whether she should speak up with her opinion or remain silent. Sarah knew that if she did speak up everyone's suspicions would be confirmed. Part of her didn't care, but the other half, the rational Sentinel Lyons, told her to keep her cool.

_After all the things he's done for the Brotherhood and the Wastes, we can't even send someone to check up on him and see if the Lone Wanderer is okay?_

"I don't see why sending one person to look around is asking too much," Knight Captain Gallows said. "I could do it."

_Thank you, Gallows. _Thought Sarah wanted to be the one investigating, she knew of his incredible abilities best of anyone there.

"I don't like sending anyone out there blind. We need more information before we can launch a search," Elder Lyons said "I'm not risking losing anyone by sending them on a blind search."

"The last contact we had with the Wanderer, he expressed his desire to return to Megaton. He didn't specify as to why that was, but I assume that's where the investigation would start."

Elder Lyons frowned, "If Megaton were his destination, we would have heard back from him by now. I'll need more details if I'm going to approve a full-scale investigation. We simply don't have enough season vets to throw at it. There are too many recruits in need of training. Until then, dismissed."

Sarah's eyes widened. They would've all been destroyed if not for Neal's efforts. Sarah realized then just how quickly the Wasteland could turn its back on you. They all seemed to assume that Neal was out saving someone's ass; they may be right, but Sarah's gut told her otherwise. She had only been wrong once before. Ironically enough, it was when she first met Neal. When she first met him, she guessed he would last _maybe _two weeks. Damn was she wrong.

_Time for plan B. _Sarah headed after her father as the room dispersed.

* * *

Neal opened his eyes at the sound of footsteps. His ears were ringing, but he could still feel a presence approaching. Neal's senses were fined tuned from their years in the Wastes. The softest sounds, faintest vibrations, tiniest scents, and slightest movements were all vital to survival. From the lightness of the steps it was either a female or a child. Neal had to guess it was female… He opened his eyes as a blurry female form came from the darkness of a vault... or a metro station. He was in a metro station.

The woman gasped at the sight of him, "Oh my god! Neal!"

Neal's vision was blurry, but he could match the voice with the familiar figure. _It's her… Why is she here? _Neal's face contorted in anger.

The woman crouched next to him, "What did they do you?"

* * *

"Elder," Sarah called after Elder Lyons.

Elder Lyons turned and looked at her, "Yes?" He hid his approval for Sarah's initiative well. This was exactly as he had hoped. He took great care not to look at Cross.

"I request leave to pursue a personal matter," Sarah said, keeping her tone professional.

Elder Lyons sighed. He knew she would do this. He didn't want her out there alone, but she of all people could handle herself. His daughter was an adult, capable of making her own decisions.

"Accepted," Elder Lyons responded, "Be careful, Sarah."

"I will," Sarah responded sternly. She had expected him to argue, but this was much easier. She saw the understanding in his eyes. This was something she needed to do. Sarah headed off briskly to gather her equipment.

_Hang on, Neal._

* * *

**Please read and review, I'd like to hear what you think of the changes.**


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter has been altered to better align with the newer ones. Hope you like it.**

* * *

Charon stared at the control panel to the left of the massive steel cog labeled 101.

He closed his eyes and tried to recall the last time he had been there with Neal...

_Neal stared at the panel as he reached out to the keyboard and typed in A-m-a-t-a and pulled the lever. The light situated upon the panel turned from red to green and the handle lit up._

_Neal turned to face Fawkes and Charon, "Get ready for a fight. We don't know what's going on in there." Neal flipped down his pitch black helmet and looked at them once, the eerie red eye plates glowed back at Charon._

_Neal turned back to the panel and put an armored hand upon the lever, "Get ready," his low-pitched voice distorted by the helmet._

_When Neal pulled down the lever an alarm sounded. At first Charon thought that Neal had made a mistake, but that idea was quickly put to rest by the horrific screeching of the metal cog._

Charon opened his eyes, he muttered to himself as he looked over the panel.

Something was different. The light was green, but no password had been entered.

Charon's decaying face contorted in confusion, "Be ready."

"Right," the super mutant said, pulling Vengeance from its hitch.  
Charon armed his Chinese Assault rifle and cracked his neck.

The alarm sounded and the door screeched open as it had the last time they were there.

"Halt!" Officer Gomez shouted at Fawkes and Charon as they entered the open Vault door. His 10mm pistol was aimed at Charon, "What the fuck are you! Wait. I remember you two!" Gomez lowered the pistol, "You were here with Neal when he talked down Alphonse, right?" Charon nodded, saying nothing.

A haggard voice came from behind the crates, "He was taken along with Amata and all of the younger adults." The voice belonged to Alphonse Almodovar, former Overseer of Vault 101.

Charon recalled Neal talking about an Alphonse. Neal always felt that the Overseer, which was some sort of leader, had felt threatened by Neal.

Alphonse continued, "Are all those things they say about him true? Mr. 101, The Lone Wanderer? Did he really take down an entire base full of Enclave?"

Charon nodded, he knew how much Neal disliked the publicity. Especially how Three Dog had taken the good looks of the Lone Wanderer and added the 'ladies man' personality to make the story all the more interesting. In actuality, Charon had heard Neal admit to the Megaton prostitute Nova that he was pretty clueless with women.

Charon thought irritably of the annoyance love struck wasteland women posed. It made Charon feel like he was working a previous contract in which he basically was a glorified bodyguard or doorman. _Arzrukahl. _It irritated Neal _almost _as much as it did Charon to have to dodge women. Not to mention a stalker who popped up every time Neal was in Megaton.

Charon realized he had gotten distracted and got back on topic, "What happened?"

Alphonse's face was distraught as he tried to sort out the memory. "They waited for us to go out and get supplies. Then they charged us when we opened the door, and held Amata hostage, along with the others. Gomez's boy Freddie, Christine Kendall, Susie and Wally Mack. They took all of them. Tripping the emergency frequency was the only thing I could do!"

Charon was beginning to get frustrated, "Who's they!"

Officer Gomez finally spoke up, "They didn't say much at all. They were… very creepy." Charon could have sworn he saw Gomez shudder. Charon was growing tired of talking, considering he hardly spoke at all most days.

The former Overseer Alphonse Almodovar added onto the story, "They took Amata hostage, forced her to switch the emergency broadcast on, and then waited for Neal to show up. They threatened to kill Amata and the others, and… Neal surrendered. They restrained him and took him with them. Before they left, one of them gave me this in case of Neal's 'friends' came looking for him." Alphonse used air quotes to show the mocking manner the mystery captors used.

Charon was having a hard time processing all of this information at once. Vault 101 invaded, residents kidnapped, along with his boss. All under the noses of the Brotherhood. But then again, Charon thought, they had for years allowed a slaving ring to go unnoticed and unthreatened.

The attack must have been small scale. The corpses out front showed Neal must have caught them by surprise at first.

One by one Charon pieced together how these events unfolded. It looked as though the whole thing was orchestrated to capture Neal alive. The Vault dwellers were taken only as leverage. To prevent Neal from attempting escape. Whoever these captors were, they must have had some information on Neal's past. Something that they knew would make him vulnerable. Whatever was on this tape may be the only clue to Neal's whereabouts. Charon knew the clock was ticking.

* * *

Sarah entered the scrap heap town, Megaton. An African American man who looked like he came straight from a western comic book stood before her.

He wore a cowboy hat and duster just like an 'Old West' Sheriff. If Sarah hadn't known better she would have mistaken him for a Regulator. "Well, well, Sentinel Lyons. Certainly has been awhile since I've seen the likes of you 'round here!"

Sarah nodded. It had been months since she had been to Megaton. She recalled the last time she had been there. The entire Pride had gathered at Moriarty's and Dusk had drank Neal under the table, much to his embarrassment. She had never let Neal live that one down. Dusk called him a 'lightweight' every time she got the chance. Sarah had to chuckle at that. Those were the good ol' days now that she thought about it. Just her, Neal, and the entire Lyon's Pride eradicating the Enclave and muties. It hadn't seemed like all fun and games then, but they had it much easier just roaming the wastes.

Sarah must have really gone off on a tangent because Simms was looking at her funny and waving his hand at her saying, "Hello?"

Sarah blinked, "Sorry." She got right to the point, "Have you seen the Lone Wanderer lately?"

Simms shook his head thoughtfully, "No, can't say I have. You're not the only one looking for him, you know. That super mutant and ghoul that always follow him around have been in and out looking for him. Last I saw him, he was headed out towards that Vault he came outta with that dog of his."

Sarah absorbed the information, "Thank you, Sheriff Simms," she said cordially.

Sarah walked over to Neal's humble abode, as he liked to call it. He didn't spend much time in it anymore. Between the Pride and Regulators, and all of his Wasteland duties, Neal was a busy man. Even after the fall of the Enclave, there were still raiders and muties to attend to.

Sarah drew her sidearm laser pistol and aimed opening the door with her free hand. Sarah peeked her head inside, but saw nothing. She slowly and quietly stepped in the doorway, closing the door silently behind her, never taking her attention from the potential danger.

Neal's pre-war couch was sunken in the middle, presumably from his super mutant friend sitting on it.

Sarah snapped to the bobbleheads, then the stairway. Nothing. She looked at the upper level balcony and saw a Nuka-Cola machine in mint condition resting against the upstairs wall.

Suddenly, Sarah was very thirsty, but she didn't let it distract her. Carefully sweeping the house, Sarah made her way up the stairs. First checking the armory, then making her way towards the closed bedroom door. Sarah began to turn the door handle slowly… slowly…

Wadsworth burst through the door, jetting along happily, "HELLO! I'm sorry for the unsightly mess! I have been stuck in this room for…," the robot processed its recording data, "…1 week, 3 days, 9 hours, and 37 minutes. That large green abomination locked me in here!"

Sarah was startled to say the least. She had nearly blasted a hole in Neal's robotic housekeeper.

The peculiarly accented robot continued, "I will be downstairs tidying up if you need anything!" With that Wadsworth jetted downstairs and began to clean the messy living area.

Sarah decided to swipe an ice-cold Nuka-Cola from the machine. She held the cool bottle in her hand and popped the cap off easily with her thumb. The bent cap clinked to the floor as Sarah downed the Nuka-Cola in a matter of minutes.

She was startled yet again by the robotic butler as it swiped the empty bottle from her hand before she had even decided what to do with it and jetted back down the stairs.

Sarah rolled her eyes and continued into Neal's room. It was surprisingly clean, no doubt Wadsworth's work.

Sarah saw weapons sitting on the desk. Along with a tape player and a stack of Pip-Boy holotapes.

Sarah looked through them. Each had a label: Operation Anchorage Simulation, Purifier, Pittsburg, etc. The most recent date was labeled Point Lookout (Baltimore).

Sarah popped it into the player and listened, "Going to Point Lookout was a big mistake. I went there to track down a woman named Catherine's daughter. The girl's name was Nadine. After aiding a ghoul named Desmond from a Tribal attack, he told me that in order to find her I had to join the group of Tribals. They sent me to perform a ritual. After I ate from the 'Mother Punga', I saw things… I saw Mom… Elder Lyons, Amata, Moira, Sarah…floating in the water face down… It was like the perfect nightmare…"

Suddenly Wadsworth was at the door, "Master does not like when guests touch his recordings! If you don't stop, I will be forced to escort you from the premises. If…"

Sarah thrust an armored hand into Wadsworth's thruster and pulled out a handful of cords. The robotic butler clattered to the ground in a heap.

"Finally, some peace and quiet. I hope your good with robots, Neal," Sarah laughed to herself.

Sarah fast-forwarded to the last few minutes of the tape, "I finally made it back… I don't exactly remember what happened. Nadine told me the riverboat captain was behind it all. I was still out of it so she fixed my scar and got some people from the Citadel to come and get me. As a favor for saving her, I get to use the riverboat whenever I like, free of charge. Which is nice, though I don't know when I'll have use for that offer. Oh, yes and I need to find a place to keep that piece of removed brain until I can figure out what to do with it." The tape clicked off.

Sarah was befuddled by the last part, "Piece of _brain_?" Sarah looked around the room and sure enough, sitting on the filing cabinet was a grayish substance floating in jar full of preservatives. Sarah remembered Neal talking about nightmares, but he never mentioned the piece of brain.

This recording was at least three months old. _Shit. This doesn't help me._

She decided to check out the armory. A fat man, a railway rifle, a blackwater rifle, combat shotgun, and many other weapons covered the room as well as a dirty mattress that lay on the floor next to a workbench Sarah assumed that it was where Charon slept.

Sarah knew that wherever Neal was, his Blackhawk revolver was with him, as well as his other prized guns such as a Xuanlong assault rifle, Gauss rifle, and a tri-beam laser rifle.

Sarah could see him now in his T51-B armor that he had painted black, the Pride symbol emblazoned upon the breastplate, and a blood red stripe painted down the right shoulder pauldron and gauntlet. The customization Neal did with his armor was somewhat ridiculous. He somehow swapped the eye plates, so instead of black, the eyepieces were red and equipped with night vision. His left gauntlet was reinforced with a power fist called Fisto!, and his right side had a built in combat knife sheathe, among other things Sarah lost track of.

His most prized item was most definitely his Lag-Bolt aviator sunglasses. He said he found them off a dead raider in Georgetown. They looked good on him with his short cut hair and tan skin. He had always joked that it added to his 'badass get-up'.

Sarah snapped from her daydream when she heard the front door open. She put her back to the wall and drew her laser rifle.

Sarah could hear a raspy voice speaking, but couldn't make out the words. Then feet could be heard thudding up the stairs and heading off into Neal's room.

Sarah peeked around the corner and grabbed the 'intruder' and put him into her signature hold.

She realized instantly that it was Neal's companion Charon, "Charon!"

The ghoul only grunted.

Sarah let go, "What do you have in your hand? A holotape?"

Charon looked slightly irked, "From the vault."

Sarah followed him into the bedroom and waited anxiously for the tape to play. At first all that could be heard was static, then the clearing of a throat, "Hello, friends of the famed 'Lone Wanderer'," the chilling voice purred, "on behalf of… an interested party… I would like to cordially invite you to a meeting at Jury Street Metro Station. Oh, do say hi, _Neal_." A thud followed by a grunt could be heard, presumably a fist to Neal's stomach.

The cold voice moved closer to the recorder. It sounded as though it was being moved, labored breath could be heard, "Fff-uck. You." It was definitely Neal's voice responding.

Sarah noticed everything seemed to echo. Therefore, it had to have occurred while still in Vault 101.

More beating could be heard, and then the sound of dragging. Other voices could be heard periodically in the background, as well as the sounds of struggles.

After the dragging subsided, the voice returned, "Get here quickly or I'm afraid we will have to move our prisoners onward…" a click could be heard and the tape ended.

Sarah thought aloud a moment, "Slavers? I never thought they'd be smart enough. It can't be slavers..." Charon only shrugged. "Let me radio the Citadel and see what they think of this," Sarah picked up the tape player and headed downstairs to use the ham radio.

* * *

Neal awoke with Amata sleeping by his side. She looked dirty and exhausted. Her wrists had burns from being tied with rope and drug behind a brahmin. Neal had been able to keep up easily, but the other vault members, due to the small size of their home, were not in very good shape. He had wanted so badly to laugh at Wally Mack when he fell, too weak to get up and continue walking. Especially after all of the years of bullying Neal had endured from the likes of Wally. But he decided against it. After all, he was the bigger person in every sense of the word.

This whole experience had seemed like a bizarre dream. The archaic methods of transportation of his mysterious captors reminded him of the story of Joseph of Canaan. Joseph was the guy with the multicolored 'dream coat' that had been sold into slavery by his brothers and drug across the desert behind camels. He had eventually become the Pharaoh's right hand man.

Neal had passed out earlier and thankfully no longer had a terrible headache.

It made sense to Neal that he and Amata were being treated slightly better than the rest of the vault captives. Both he and Amata were important, valuable figures. It only made sense that they were kept together. Though, Amata was the LAST person he wanted to be in the same room with. After throwing him out nearly a year and a half ago, Neal couldn't bring himself to forgive her for what she'd said and done. Neal would rather have snuggled up to a Deathclaw to be brutally honest.

He began to scoot away from dozing Amata.

Neal took a deep breath and pushed the personal matters aside. He brought his Lone Wanderer instincts to the forefront of his mind. _She is just another Waster. Treat her as you would any other civilian. Figure out how the hell you are even going to survive and get all of these hostages out of here. _Though it was hard to act like there was nothing between the two of him. After all, she was his childhood sweetheart. _Was_.

Neal could barely make out his captors moving around in the darkness. They were in a metro station, but he couldn't tell which. He looked for a sign or stray ID card. By the lack of establishment, either his captors were poorly organized or this wasn't their final destination. Neal surmised it wasn't their last stop. He hoped his broken bones would heal soon enough. It would be an especially painful journey if they didn't. If only he could find something irradiated…

* * *

**I imagine Neal as similar to that of James Dean in his looks, but as the reader you can imagine however you please. R&R!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello again everyone. Sorry for such a wait. I've had bits and pieces of this chapter sitting around for a few months now and due to college I haven't been able to finish it. I have to give a big thank you to deadpool626 for the message asking me if i were going to continue to write the story or not. That really gave me a big kick in the ass to get going. It's nice to see that people all still interested in my story and want more. Well without further ado, here is chapter 5. I hope it lives up to the past few.**

(Current Time)

Jury Street Metro Station

Sarah, Fawkes, and Charon moved into the decrepit Jury Street Metro station. The once raider-infested train station was eerily silent. All they could hear were the sounds of periodical drips and the rustling of two hundred year-old debris. Sarah stood at the point, squinting into the dim tunnel. Her nose twitched at the musty air as it grew progressively worse. Charon tapped her shoulder from behind her, "Whoever these guys are, they might have left traps." Sarah responded with a slight nod as she moved through the tunnels. To her surprise, she had yet to see a raider corpse.

When they came upon a machine room, they spotted dusty footprints all over the room. They all seemed to lead to the opposite wall. A gutted medical station hung on the wall near a door on the far right side. Sarah could hear the humming of an ancient machine providing light for the room. It was then that something familiar caught Sarah's eye. She turned and motioned for Charon to have a look. Fawkes remained with his back to them, keeping an eye on the doors.

Sarah reached out and pulled the Brotherhood holotags that hung upon a railway spike lodged into the solid metal wall. The Pride's _lion _flourished proudly within the emblazoned wings and sword of the Brotherhood. Turning the tags around, and putting a thumb on the blue chip, the inscription read:

Brotherhood of Steel

Name: Lone Wanderer

Rank: Star Paladin

Unit: Lyons' Pride

Blood: O-

Sarah remembered that the Lone Wanderer's name was not common knowledge and he preferred it that way. He only gave his name out to the few he trusted. The Lone Wanderer was a persona that Neal intended to keep.

Sarah remembered Neal's obsession with the book, _The Prince_ by the famous Niccolò Machiavelli. He had always mentioned that his image required a delicate balance of being both feared and loved. Sarah greatly admired his intellectual side, though she sometimes found it hard to follow.

Yes, these were definitely Neal's tags. Sarah removed them from the spike and tucked them into her off-hand ammo pack where she also had stuffed a map. Sarah felt disappointment rising within her. She was too late; she had failed to get there in time. Ignoring her gut had cost her yet again. Sarah's moment of self-loathing was interrupted by Charon's raspy voice.

"What did you say," Sarah asked.

Charon pointed to the wall, "Tally marks."

As Sarah stepped closer to the wall where the dusty footprints were located, sure enough, she could see tallies etched into the wall. Kneeling down, Sarah counted 18 tallies. She frowned in confusion. The obvious conclusion would be that this was the number of days the captives spent here, but knowing Neal there was something deeper to this. Sarah knew Neal's affinity for making and solving puzzles. He had always enjoyed using them as a clever, and frustrating way to give her presents. Most times she would make a fool of herself trying to solve them, asking Neal for hints frequently. She hadn't thought much of it, considering Neal's good-natured manner. She may have grumbled at the time, but deep down she really enjoyed them.

Mulling over the numbers repeatedly, Sarah noticed something. She reached out and touched the rusty screw that separated the numbers. It looked as though it were a decimal point. Sarah pondered for a moment. If she took into account the makeshift decimal or period the two numbers would be 5 and 13. Sarah thought long and hard. _Are they a code for something? Is it an anagram? A birthdate? Coordinates? A Bible scripture? _Sarah shook her head, she was thinking too hard, perhaps a second opinion would help.

Sarah spoke over her shoulder, "Charon?"

Location: Unknown

(Current Time)

Neal's steps were heavy and labored. His body protested with every move he made. He refused to look anyone in the eye, not even the vault dwellers; his mind was somewhere else. There were too many variables for him to even begin a plan of action.

The Lone Wanderer scowled at the dark bruises that peeked through the tears in his bloodstained cutoff. His medical experience told him that he was in really rough shape, but then again, he had been in worse situations. He gingerly cocked his head over his right shoulder, his stiff neck protesting. The guards roughly shoved him, forcing him to carry forward.

Biting his lip in fury, Neal ruefully cursed Elder Lyons.

He had told the old man time and time again that Caesar's Legion was an imminent threat. He knew they would come in the peacetime following the Enclave's defeat, but he had no way of knowing when. His scouts of Point Lookout and the Pitt had produced evidence that all pointed towards one inevitability.

There was a void in the Capital Wasteland and it was only a matter of time before someone would fill it. The old man (The Elder) had been too blinded by the defeat of the Enclave. He had been so focused on the Enclave that he seemed to ignore the possibility of another enemy.

Elder Lyons seemed to have forgotten the very force that had nearly taken his own life nearly half a century ago. Sarah had told Neal of her father's run in with the Legion. Sarah had expressed concern in how her father treated it. He acted as if it were simply a nightmare that could be banished and forgotten.

(A year prior to present time…)

Sarah's hazel eyes traced toward the sky in thought. Her brow crinkled as she spouts out the details of this fateful mission. "He had just completed his training and received his Paladin title, and like his father before him. Elder Lyons was a recon scout," Sarah said spouting from memory.

Neal noticed early on the relationship between this particular father and daughter was not particularly close. He suspected few hugs or laughs were ever shared between them. Sarah calling her father by his formal title, even in Neal's presence, confirmed the professional relationship between them. And this type of relationship was not just upheld in front of the Brotherhood to allay any accusations of favoritism; it was just how it was between them.

Neal looked to his left to see why Sarah had stopped speaking. The word "why" was barely out of his mouth when from behind the rocks Sarah pulled a raider up to his bandoleer, threw him to the ground, and stamped on his windpipe.

Neal sprung into action drawing his favorite sidearm, Blackhawk, from his belt and began scanning the area. After a bit Neal looked back to Sarah, "I think we're clear, Sentinel."

"Sentinel? Since when are you following protocol, Mr. Washington? Trying to cover your ass?" Sarah said, her voice mocking.

Neal looked to and fro as if searching for something, "Who?"

Sarah laughed, "Go ahead and play coy," Sarah's voice took on a teasing tone, "What would the reaction of the Wastes be if they found out that their indomitable Lone Wanderer nearly got jumped by a single Jet-crazed raider?"

Neal's face reflected thought, "Hmmm," he said, his baritone voice sly, "Perhaps I was so enthralled by your story that I got wrapped up in the details," he smirked, "Or perhaps I was just so lost in your eyes…"

Before he could finish his sentence, the Wanderer took a sharp punch in the jaw from the Sentinel.

Sarah laughed, "Oh shut up, smartass. I have barriers against those wily ways of yours."

"So you think," Neal said playfully. He returned to his original spot and straightened up, his tone becoming serious, "I can see why this story is important. So, shall we continue?" Neal patted the ground next to him. Sarah obliged, sitting next to him and resuming her story.

"This was his first time spearheading a mission. The team believed Command must not have foreseen much of a threat for this mission since they were sending an entirely green team of newly-minted Paladins out," Sarah said simply. "The battle with Caesar's Legion was ongoing and mostly give and take."

Neal's eyes narrowed in question, "You mean the Caesar and the Roman Legion from Roman history books?"

Sarah shook her head, "Not exactly, they do copy a lot of their get up from them though. Their entire operating methods are similar. They also use the same Latin titles the Roman Legion did."

Sarah could see Neal's eyes light up. He loved history, particularly military history. The Lone Wanderer firmly believed that the past was just as important as the future. It taught lessons of mistakes that should never be repeated.

"The team was sent out to investigate some suspicious movement in the hills. Looking back on it, my father said the details were vague." Sarah used her hands to draw a number of hills in the dirt. There appeared to be a pocket created in the middle of the cluster of hills.

"The terrain in the Midwest used to be more rural and hilly. The hills near the base of St. Louis looked something like this and were of great interest."

Neal could see where this would be treacherous.

"They would see what they thought was a scout just at the edge of the forest. The scout was sent to lure the sentries out; nobody would ever see or hear from them again. I believe father's superiors were afraid to risk a higher-ranking unit.

Neal pursed his lips seeing where this was going, "They were ambushed?"

Sarah nodded grimly, "Yes," she reached down and drew in the dirt, "They completely circled them. They were too far from the guard outposts for anyone to see or hear anything. The Legion was merciless and would take no prisoners."

Neal's face was unreadable, "How did he escape?"

Sarah simply responded, "Luck."

Location: Unknown

(Present time)

Neal was snapped from the memory by a familiar voice, "Well if it isn't Mr. 101. It's been far too long, Wanderer."

The Wanderer's face hid the surprise he initially felt, "Burke. I should have known you'd ply for revenge."

Burke laughed darkly, "Not revenge. Monopoly. You can see I don't want you dead yet. No, no, I have far better things planned for you, pet."

The Wanderer raised his brows in slight amusement. He raised his shackled wrists, motioning to the tents and legionnaires themselves. "This is a nice touch. I can see you still don't have the balls to do things yourself. Megaton, Talon Company, now this?"

"A necessary precaution," Burke responded bitterly. He snapped from his sour state with an eerie smile, "Ah yes, it appears I was just about to show you to your new…" he paused for a moment, as if searching for the proper word, "Pen."

The Wanderer looked fondly down at his work, at the remnants of what was once a well-fortified slave trade area known as Evergreen Mills. He could still see the scorch marks from the mines he planted. "Oh Burke, you didn't," the Wanderer said taking on the act of a woman receiving an unprecedented gift.

Burke smiled yet again, "I did." He motioned to the legionnaires to guide the Wanderer down into the pit of Evergreen Mills. "Your friends will join you soon," Burke called after him.

**A/N: I'm curious to see if this is where you saw things going. Did you suspect Burke? Please let me know in reviews or a pm because believe it or not your suggestions and ideas do play a sizable role in how I layout my next chapter. So, if you want to see something changed or added, please make the suggestion and I will take it into consideration. If I do not, and you would like to know why, feel free to ask.**

**Please R&R**

**IR5**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Just a note so you don't freak. This is supposed to be a tad bit confusing. As you read you should be able to piece together what's amiss here. Pay attention to Amata's description of things.**

* * *

Amata rested her head against the cold metal wall of whatever vault they were currently being kept in, trying to process all that had occurred the past few months. They had traveled from a dingy metro station to a tiny makeshift city with only two inhabitants, and now to this strange vault. The men in peculiar steel armor had taken Neal elsewhere at the request of a man he had called Burke. It was obvious this Burke had a vendetta against the Wanderer.

Amata suspected that the she and the rest of the vault dwellers were there for the purpose of torturing the Lone Wanderer with his past. This attack on the Wanderer was clearly meant to be personal, but there was something wrong with Neal. Perhaps the Wastes had changed him, but Amata's gut told her otherwise. Her peers had noticed as well.

Julian Torres, Vault 101's newest resident and doctor, had his theories as well. A former caravaneer with medical experience, Julian had offered his services in exchange for a more permanent residence. Amata had found his knowledge of the Wastes an invaluable bonus. When asked, Julian had identified the soldiers as a form of the Enclave, but their new leader was a mystery to him.

Julian had turned Vault 101 into regular followers of Galaxy News Radio, thus keeping them well informed on the Wanderer's legacy. Stories such as his single-handed evisceration of Raven Rock and the activation of the Jefferson Memorial Purifier were quite the hot topics in 101. The most recent chapter being the destruction of the Enclave base with the help of his three loyal companions. This feat, as well as a timely rescue evacuation by the Brotherhood of Steel, had been quite the talk of the vault.

Had Amata known all of this, perhaps their last meeting would have been different, but she doubted there was little that would change the narrow minds of the Vault 101 inhabitants.

Amata tried to tell herself that there was very little of the Neal she once knew and loved left, if any at all. To withstand what he had gone through, he needed to maintain a defensive and impersonal persona. At times, however, his actions seemed to show a softer side. He had always been like his father, James-unselfish, a true humanitarian that barely existed in the survivalist world they lived in.

The truth was the person Amata once knew would have turned tail and fled in the face of such adverse challenges. The Lone Wanderer was a man infinitely the former vault outcast's greater. She wished she could claim a quarter of the accomplishments Neal had amassed in the few years he had been in the Wastes.

Having seen Neal up close and without his terrifying 'power armor', she believed was the term, showed that the Wanderer was indeed human. He was riddled with scars, but his brawny body clearly adapted to such abuse.

He no longer looked like the baby-faced, undersized young man he had in the vault. He had grown a few inches and bulked up, which was surprising of a Waster. The irradiation and amount of exercise the average Wasteland denizen was exposed to usually made them quite thin. He looked much like his father, with a few differences that were no doubt his mother's contribution. In other words, Neal was quite attractive. He was no longer the bullied braniac, Neal, but the legendary Lone Wanderer.

Amata scooted closer to Julian at her left, "Do you recognize this place?"

Julian shook his head, "No, though I doubt it would make much of a difference. Our captors are confident they can contain the Lone Wanderer here in secret. They aren't even slightly worried about us escaping."

"That's where they're wrong. We'll find a way," Amata said, trying to sound confident enough to convince even herself.

The olive hue of Julian's skin showed the creases of disbelief in his face in the shadows of the room. He looked down at the metal floor, covered with rusty yellow paint chips.

"I'd like to believe so Overseer," Julian said, his voice falling.

"This isn't any Enclave I've seen before. Their armor is different," Julian said.

He looked up into the light of the medical room next door. It looked similar to that of the one in Vault 101, but was filled with high tech machinery he had never seen before.

"I think the Wanderer is our only way out of here," he paused gazing through the window. "He's the only one who can handle a force this size by himself. I could lend a hand, but the way he works I'd only slow him down," Julian smirked.

Amata noticed the other vault dwellers listening in as well. She tried to objectify her interest to one of escape. She doubted _and hoped_ that anyone spoke of the teenage romance between herself and Neal. That was old news. They seemed convinced at Amata's cold treatment of Neal. She hoped the act had demonstrated that her feelings had changed, when they really had not.

"You've met him before?" asked Amata.

Julian nodded, "Once briefly. Most of what I know of him is from GNR radio and stories passed around. He's a good guy. Not really very talkative, but courteous, definitely a soldier type."

Amata nodded, trying to curb the strange feeling of satisfaction. She snapped out of her train of the thought when Julian spoke up again, "You'd figure with what he's been through he'd be a mean cuss. Tough guy," he said with admiration. "Suppose that's why they initiated him into The Pride." He appeared to have a thought, "You know-,"

"Who's 'The Pride'?" Wally piped up.

"Ah, sorry, I got ahead of myself. Caravan habits die hard, we're a talkative bunch," Julian back-tracked.

"So you've heard of the Brotherhood of Steel, yes?"

"Right."

* * *

Location: The Lone Wanderer's Residence

Sarah danced her fingers along the numbered lines on the map, finally stopping at 5'13. The location marked Evergreen Mills.

Sarah's brow furrowed. How could that be right? Neal had cleared the slaver outpost numerous times, even taken a behemoth. She seriously doubted that slavers would get the slip on the Wanderer.

"This has to be wrong," Sarah declared, turning to the rather silent followers. She suspected they were neglecting to share certain details with her, but they had no reason to.

Charon shrugged, "It's the best we got."

Sarah nodded, "Yeah," she said thoughtfully, "Ready up. I'm gonna call in a favor."

* * *

A faint sound of scraping grew nearer. Julian peeked his head over the opaque wall, grasping the edge of the window and pulling himself up to a kneeling position.

"It's the Wanderer. I think he's unconscious," he glanced down at Amata, "Look!"

Amata peeked over the glass. She could see two soldiers and five men in lab coats, an outfit similar to that of Jonas. Amata felt her stomach sink. _Jonas. _Even years after the day, the memories still haunted her. She still questioned whether she could have done more, and potentially saved him. Her thoughts froze at the movement in the room before her.

After some grunts of effort, the unarmed Lone Wanderer was hoisted onto a metal examining table in the middle of the room. The men in lab coats began to secure restraints onto the unconscious Neal.

The scientists rolled up various machines along the sides of the table. Amata could hear Julian whisper, "Those are electrodes, they must be running some sort of tests…"

Christine Kendall whispered from alongside them, "Why are they taking the fancy equipment from the room?"

The scientists, or whatever they were, left the room, leaving two heavily armed soldiers. As the lone steel blast door slid shut, the soldiers drew their weapons and aimed at the operation table. It began to lift at one side, bringing the Wanderer to a standing position, his bare feet dangling no more than a foot from the ground.

The vaulties could hear someone speaking over the PA system, their Pip-Boys echoed the voice, tuned in as well.

"Okay, safety check, units, take your Rad-X now."

A response could be heard. "Affirmative," the armored units responded, twisting a nob on their helmets.

"Filter in the radiation," the first voice said.

"No way!" Julian exclaimed, as the radiated water vaporized and began to cloud the room.

For a few moments, there was only silence and the crackling of the Geiger detector on the Vaulties' Pip-Boys.

"There's got to be at least 400 rads in there! Get away from the window!" Christine shouted to them, pulling at their arms.

Then the horrific sounds of snapping bones split the air. Muffled snaps of gunfire followed shortly.

Julian and Amata stood a few feet from the window, waiting apprehensively, when suddenly they flew backwards, shell-shocked from the thunderous sound of an Enclave soldier slamming against the bulletproof glass window. The PA system exploded with an alarmed voice, "Get in there and neutralize the subject, NOW!"

Another metallic object flew through the irradiated smog, colliding with the bulletproof glass and making a massive crack. Amata and the others stood, searching for an escape, but knowing very well that they were trapped in what was once a patient waiting room. Amata's mind was reprimanding itself for not having a plan. _Do something!_

Turning back towards the glass, the vaulties gasped collectively at what they saw. The two Enclave soldiers lay dead on the metal floor, and the Wanderer stood with a metal table on his burly shoulder preparing to make another charge. Amata noticed that he looked unscathed, when she knew for a fact that he had at least a broken wrist, ankle, and a few ribs at the entertainment of a few Enclave soldiers, maybe more.

It wasn't the spontaneous healing that shocked Amata the most, but the horrific, untamed look in Neal's eye when he made eye contact with her. She noticed a nasty scar that ran from above his right brow to just above his ear. Something about it seemed peculiar, but now was not the time to speculate.

Without hesitation, Neal lurched back to gain momentum then tore forward towards the glass. Amata found herself unable to move out of the way, frozen in terror. At the very moment of impact, Amata felt an arm yanking her from the Wanderer's path. The metal instrument table collided again, only increasing the span of the crack.

Amata watched as the metal doors opened and at least six armored Enclave soldiers move into the room, weapons drawn. Amata noticed Neal clutching his head for a brief moment and blinking as if staring into a bright light. He grasped the table in his hands and closed his eyes for a moment as if collecting himself. Amata could see he wasn't going down without a fight. She placed a hand on the glass and shook her head, trying to dissuade him. Amata could see him consider it a moment, his blue eyes intense in thought.

Amata watched as the Wanderer took over, or whatever this side of him was. He gritted his teeth angrily. He spun 180 degrees and hurled the table at the soldiers, colliding with two soldiers and knocking them to the floor.

The sharp report of rifles was followed by the direct result of stiffening of muscles in Neal's body as he recoiled in pain. He fell slowly to the floor, dead or unconscious, Amata wasn't sure. She and the other gaped fearfully. The expanding and contracting of The Wanderer's chest relieved them. He was alive and with it their hope.

Amata collapsed against the wall, sliding flat to the floor, "What," she took a labored breath, "the hell just happened?"

Julian's brown eyes were wide with astonishment, "Holy shit, it's true…"

"What?"

"The Wanderer heals with the radiation. No wonder he's so hard to kill," Julian shook his head, "This guy's a weapon. I'm sure the Enclave realizes this."

A pregnant silence hung tersely for a few minutes as everyone processed.

Amata decided to clear the air with what she hoped others noticed, "Did anyone find Neal's behavior a bit… Overzealous?"

Christine piped up, "Yeah… I hid behind a pre-war car while he took out a bunch of raiders near Springvale," Christine looked spooked, "And it was nothing like that. I didn't even know it was him until afterwards. It was quick and efficient, not…that," she said with distaste.

Christine had taken up the role of purchasing necessities that were found outside the vault. She often dealt with caravans and had a skill for bartering items for a fraction of the asking price. It was she who recruited Julian to Vault 101.

Julian appeared skeptical, "I'm not sure. I wouldn't have done much different, given the resources."

He thought for a moment, "But then again, he's a million times smart than I." He noticed the anxious stares from the others, "I just don't know," he said, exasperated.

* * *

Location: Outside Megaton Gates

Sarah, Fawkes, Charon, and the healed Dogmeat waited anxiously at the gate. A slight, unnoticeable glitch in the horizon drew nearer, unbeknownst to the diverse group. Gallows materialized before them, holding back a laugh as he realized he startled them.

"Reporting for duty," Gallows' husky voice stated.

Sarah smiled, "Good to see you."

The stealth specialist nodded. Sarah knew better than to take his stoic responses wrongly. Gallows was quite introverted and earning a nod from his was a show of great respect.

Sarah sensed Gallows was waiting for his orders. It was always business with Gallows, unless you got him drunk.

"Thank you for coming. I owe you one," Sarah said.

Gallows shook his head, "I owe him one."

Sarah knew exactly who 'him' was. She scanned the area quickly, "Are we clear?"

Gallows nodded.

"So the only evidence we have is that the Wanderer was taken from Vault 101, to Jury Street Metro Station, and then location unknown by an unknown enemy," Sarah paused briefly realizing how vague that was. "The only indication we have of his whereabouts is his tags found with a code. 5.13, which we believe are coordinates for Evergreen Mills."

Gallows nodded, "I'll scout the area."

Sarah nodded, "You'll provide us with overwatch."

"Affirmative," Gallows said as he vanished into thin air.

**A/N: Sorry about the wait. I've been drafting and redrafting this, but I think I got it right. Obviously we have a pretty big plot twist. I know it might seem like I backed out of the whole Legion plot, BUT this was only a slight deviation from what I had planned. The content might get more mature as we go along, but plans may change. Thanks for reading!**

**TS**


	7. Chapter 7: A Choiceless Choice

**A/N:**** This chapter was tough to write. I think I re-drafted it 5 times. Anyways, enjoy! R&R please.**

Neal awoke with the same splitting headache he had suffered for months. A bright operating light shined down on him, but the surrounding area was complete darkness. The light prevented his eyes from adjusting to the darkness. He dangled on a steel operating table, his limbs fastened securely with metal vices. The table was elevated on an axis at about 80 degrees.

He sensed someone approaching from his peripheral. A familiar, chilling voice greeted him.

"You would be wise not to fight this."

Neal's voice was low and threatening. It was the Wanderer's voice, "What?"

Burke did not move into sight, knowing that the Wanderer couldn't turn his head while held in metal restraints.

"This opportunity," Burke whispered, his voice gravelly.

"I'll bite, what opportunity?"

Burke moved closer to the Wanderer's ear, "What no one has ever given you before. Revenge without responsibility."

Though he fought it, the Wanderer had to admit it sounded good.

"You're dying, Wanderer. I'm sure you know that given your medical experience.

It seems the hack-job performed on your brain at Point Lookout, coupled with the physical and mental abuse of being you has wreaked havoc on your frontal lobe.

You're suffering from severe dementia, one of many side effects of brain damage."

Neal knew the functions the frontal lobe controlled. Motor function, decision-making, speech, execution, judgment, and planning to name a few.

"Your body and mind are literally falling apart. We aim to fix it, and return you better than before," Burke said

"Where would you get the technology to do this?"

Burke moved in front of the Wanderer, revealing a sharp fitting black tuxedo with white pin stripes. His eyes shaded by a black fedora.

"While out west I came across some allies with powerful technology," Burke said, his hands latched on the collar of his tux.

The Wanderer cocked a brow, "Why would I agree to be your puppet?"

"I do not mean to make you my puppet, but my strong right arm."

Burke smiled, "Your life hangs on your decision. To make a martyr of yourself after everything you've done for the people of the wretched Wasteland would be all for naught. They are not worth your life and you know it," Burke's angered tone suggested an understanding of the Wanderer's plight.

After a pause, his tone lightened, "All you have to do is work with me," he said, as if the choice were obvious.

The Wanderer shook his medium length hair from his face in annoyance. He met Burke's gaze with an indifferent face, though his head swirled with possibilities.

"Does it matter what I think?"

Burke shrugged, "It will make the process less painful for both of us. Think about it… Freedom from the Wanderer's responsibility and expectations." He smiled darkly, "Your choice."

"What exactly are you planning to do my home?" the Wanderer threatened.

Burke smiled, "Perfect it."

He turned on heel and walked into the darkness.

The Wanderer closed his eyes, processing all he had heard. His still pounding head seething at the light that penetrated his eyelids.

Everything the Wanderer once stood for rebelled against siding with such a cold-blooded deviant. However, the white knight image of the old Lone Wanderer was long gone in Neal's mind.

Instead, a deep, sinister voice spoke to him, replacing what once was his father's. He first heard this new conscience during his walk through the Mother Punga fruit swamp. The dreaded dream.

The Wanderer had known he was dying. He returned to operating from Megaton to spare Sarah any pain. Waking up screaming at nightmares had been reason for her concern and distracted her from her duties. Neal couldn't bring himself to tell her, knowing very well the effect it would have.

At present, Neal's dementia was beyond fixing. The moments of clarity grew fewer with each day. Neal would either suffer insanity, losing all memory of his incredible life, or survive in hopes that he could somehow turn this situation to his advantage. Either way, Neal was losing himself; he was losing his humanity.

A moment later, Neal was lost. Vanishing into the nightmare that had become his reality, his sanity dwindling with every passing hour.

Amata jerked awake to a man's bloodcurdling screams. She wasn't sure what day it was or how long they had been in the tiny room. They had been fed small rations, but had little to complain about given the hospitality the Enclave gave most of its prisoners.

She did a double take when she saw the door at the opposite end of the room, adjacent to the window, was wide open. Amata saw the others snap awake and make the same realization. No one dared exit the room for fear of what lay beyond the doorway.

Amata and Wally approached the door warily, peeking around the corner slowly. The two gasped, startled by the sound of Burke's voice coming over the PA.

"Come on out, don't be shy," the husky voice cooed.

Wally hesitated, but crested the doorway. He froze when he saw what lay before him. Amata followed, as did the others. They stopped dead in their tracks at the realization and disbelief of what was about to happen. Silence quickly fell upon them.

The previously missing medical equipment was spread throughout a transparent room. The walls were made entirely of what could be assumed as plexi-glass. Inside the room there was a group of the same lab rats as before. Some stood at their respective machines, while others dressed in medical scrubs gathered around the metal operating table that lie in the center of the clear room.

Amata ran towards the glass and pressed her face against it. She could see Neal lying on the table, all but his head was covered by a white sheet. The doctors passed around bloody instruments as they operated on his forehead region. Neal, thankfully, was unconscious.

Amata couldn't believe what she saw. She and the rest of the vault dwellers stared in silence. Only the sounds of the surgeons speaking and the beeps of machines could be heard.

They watched for the next two hours, standing hands pressed against the glass, trying to understand what exactly was going on. They could hear the occasional comments the surgeons made. One in particular stuck out to Amata.

"Is the boss sure about his diagnosis," the surgeon asked, "This guy is at most 22, that's way below the threshold age. It could be Paranoid Schizophrenia, all of the symptoms line up with the ones in my textbook."

The other surgeon disagreed, "That entire piece of the frontal lobe there has been removed. It was pretty crude, look at all the dried blood."

They chatted on for a bit longer using medical terms Amata didn't understand. She had practically no medical experience, and had never heard of 'Paranoid Schizophrenia'. Psychology wasn't a very vital practice in the Wastes or the Vault. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.

The woman, the ghoul, the mutant, and the dog approached Evergreen Mills cautiously. It had a reputation of being a major slaver hub and Wasters did well to avoid it.

From above they couldn't spot anyone. The whole place looked deserted. Sarah's eyebrows raised a good measure when she spotted the massive skeleton of what she assumed was a behemoth. No wonder this place was so difficult to overtake. Sarah knew who had done the job though. Everyone in the Capital Wasteland had heard the stories.

Trusting Gallows was in position, Sarah took point and began down the treacherous path with the tri-beam laser rifle she had taken from Neal's house. She liked the grip that had been added to the front of the gun; it was much more comfortable for aiming and maneuvering. As she aimed down her sights and began to move into position Sarah felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hold up, we should keep an eye out for traps. The Wanderer and I set up a ton of traps in case slavers or raiders decided to try and set up here," Charon's raspy voice whispered.

He moved in front of Sarah, crouched and picked up some dirt, throwing it a few feet in front of him, the dust outlined a well-hidden tripwire. Charon turned to Sarah with what looked like a frown.

"It doesn't look like anyone's been here since we last cleared it out."

Sarah turned away from Charon, she looked up at the sky for a moment, thinking of what her mistake might have done. She kicked the dirt in frustration. Sarah noticed the dirt parted around and an invisible point in front of her appeared.

Gallows materialized in front of her, "I've got something you need to see."

Sarah and company followed Gallows to a crumbling overpass. Gallows had called it the two-person settlement of Girdershade. He said that the two houses were abandoned and that the vantage point had allowed him to see for many miles.

Knight-Captain Gallows knelt pointing to a torn, faded blue cutoff. It was covered in dried blood. Dogmeat rushed up to it and began to sniff it intensely. The loyal mutt whimpered. Sarah felt her breath lodge in her throat.

Gallows handed her a datapad. Judging by its pristine appearance, it hadn't been there long. Sarah lifted it carefully and read:

_Sentinel Lyons,_

_If you wish to save the Wanderer, please proceed to Smith Casey's Garage alone and unarmed. If you fail to follow these two conditions, he will die._

Sarah swallowed hard, she felt as though she were in an old-world film. She recalled from the few films the Brotherhood had salvaged that you never do those two deadly things. Her training also strictly forbade negotiating with the enemy. She used to scoff at them, those poor, ignorant fools, but now she understood the dilemma. A life was on the line. He was not only her love, but the single most important figure in all of the Capital Wasteland.

Sarah looked at Gallows, who nodded, then vanished into thin air.

She turned to Charon, "You must stay here. Wait for awhile but if I don't return," Sarah looked down, "Inform the Brotherhood."

Charon frowned, his decaying face crackling as his slit of a mouth slanted downwards, "I wouldn't cross these guys. They don't mess around."

Sarah nodded hesitantly, "I know, but what choice do we have?"

Charon nodded slightly, "Just consider what could happen, Sentinel. Remember, this is where his father was held captive," he warned.

Sarah knew she was already swimming in unfamiliar territory, but this was as close to the unknown enemy and Neal as she had ever been. She knew that Smith Casey's Garage, aka, Vault 112, was a very personal place for Neal. Sarah doubted that this enemy chose this place by coincide, she didn't believe in coincidences.

The Sentinel knew operation was taking a great deal of time already and she couldn't waste any more sitting and pondering what to do. She needed to act now.

Just to be sure, Sarah held the bloody shirt to Dogmeat, indicating she wanted him to track the scent. Dogmeat barked once and began to sniff the ground, following an invisible trail. He paused a few times, losing the scent briefly but eventually came upon a steel, one story building in the middle of nowhere. Dogmeat barked twice, indicating the scent ran through the door. This was Smith Casey's Garage. The dog appeared excited to finally find his master's scent. Sarah regretfully told him that he had to stay with Charon. Dogmeat whimpered sadly.

Sarah handed her weapons to Charon and Fawkes and waited for them to move away and out of sight. After they had gone, Sarah faced the steel door, she pulled at the handle and watched as the elaborate locks twisted into the unlock position and fell into the floor. Sarah took a deep breath and entered the room.

Amata awoke due to the flickering of bright vault lights that lined the ceiling. She was sprawled on the floor along with the other Vault dwellers. The others appeared to come to life as well.

"Wake him up," a husky, dark voice said over the PA.

Amata scanned around the room, her eyes finding the center, where all of the medical equipment was. The operation table, presumably the one from the other room, had rotated, revealing Neal. He was unconscious and strapped securely to the metal table.

There was something different about him. At the sound of computers whirring and beeping to life, the Wanderer's eyes shot open and he fell to one knee. He hit the ground abnormally hard. It seemed he weighed more than he appeared. His hair was also buzzed, no doubt from the surgery.

Neal came to his feet and began to orient himself, as if reminding himself how to walk again. Neal slowly walked towards Amata and the rest of the captured vaulties. He looked at each of them with a blank expression. She could hear Christine Kendall mutter to herself.

"Wow…" she whispered, swooning at Neal's brooding, chiseled physique. "And to think he used to be a nerd."

Neal's face contorted at this, showing emotion for the first time. He glared venomously at Christine.

The soft-spoken Freddie Gomez piped up for the first time since they had been captured, "I think he heard you…"

Susie Mack's exasperated voice drew everyone's attention, "Where's Wally? Has anyone seen my brother?!"

Burke's voice could be heard over the intercom, "The time has come, Wanderer. Revenge without consequence."

**A/N: After rereading the part where Wally is missing it made me think of where's Waldo. Anyone remember those books? Good times. Anyways, we reach a turning point in the story. Will Sarah and Neal will finally cross paths?**

**On more note, the rating may change to M. I'll have to read the rating criteria again though.**

**As always, R&R your encouragement, constructive criticism, and suggestions help a great deal.**

**TS**


	8. Chapter 8: Facing the Past

**A/N:**** And now the fun begins… For those of you that like a little music to listen to, I have a few songs I used to get into the right emotions for each part. First off we have, Hard to See by Five Finger Death Punch. Towards the middle, I used Remember Everything by Five Finger Death Punch. I feel that song is spot on for any Wanderer, regardless of his/her choices. Also try Fix Me by 10 Years. And finally, the last part, Hesitate by Stonesour. Let's just say, you'll understand when you come to it. The lines are good indication of when to switch songs. Enjoy!**

* * *

Neal scanned the room sluggishly. His eyes were heavy and his movements labored. He could hear voices faintly speaking in the background, but he could not understand. His mind was in a different place. He was completely trapped within himself. Neal could hear the voice repeating over and over again, "Revenge without consequence. Revenge. You know you've always wanted it!" Neal held his head in his hands and closed his eyes for a moment.

As if it were the flip of a switch, Neal's mind returned to his childhood. All of the memories Neal long repressed were clawing from the back of his mind to the front.

He could hear Butch DeLoria the ringleader bully, a man he had long since forgiven. Paul Hannon, the follower really didn't say much to hurt Neal. He had egged on the behavior but nothing more. In secret, Paul had told Neal not to take their incessant picking seriously, but Neal had still thought him a coward for never standing up against the Tunnel Snakes' behavior. It seemed karma caught up with Hannon during a Radroach infestation.

A voice resonated within his head suddenly, "It's time to test your improvements." it wasn't his own voice, but Burke's. Somehow, his voice sounded like it was directly in his ear. Neal clutched his head, "How are you doing this?" He turned a complete circle looking up into the darkness, searching for Burke.

"We've implanted a little chip into your brain, my friend," Burke said cheerfully.

"We're not friends," the Wanderer resisted.

Burke conceded, "Think of us as allies with common interests."

The Wanderer relaxed slightly, "Fine, what do you want me to do?"

"What you've always wanted to do," Burke purred.

Neal wiped the sweat from his hands on the bottom half of the vault utility jumpsuit. The black and red high top sneakers were a nice touch. Neal locked his hands on his belt and began to pace around. He gazed up into the darkness, trying to understand all that had transpired. He wondered what everyone in the Wastes was thinking. Did they assume him dead? Were they looking for him? Neal's head fell. It had been a very long time since he had seen Sarah. While it hurt him to be away, he had decided it was best. Sarah was the most relaxed when she was on the job, it was automatic. She didn't need him complicating things.

The Wanderer then realized his vision had improved, he could see much more clearly, even into the darkness. He snapped towards a loud slamming noise.

* * *

Sarah entered the main portion of the vault on the upper floors, escorted by Robo-brains. She took a deep breath, not knowing what she was about to witness. She was careful to observe her surroundings thoroughly, searching for possible weakness and escape routes. She was led into a dark room, the Robo-brains left, sealing the door behind them. The only light came from outside the full sized glass that faced the central atrium of the vault. Trusting that Gallows had her back, Sarah approached the glass. Sarah saw two men standing inside a glass room in the center of the expansive atrium. Audio cackled to life in Sarah's room, she recognized one of the voices. It was Neal's and he didn't sound happy. Staring closer, Sarah could make out the difference between Neal and the other man. Neal was shirtless for some strange reason and was much broader than the other man, whom appeared boyish and slender. The boyish man looked terrified as Neal stalked back and forth, staring at him. It was then Sarah noticed a cluster of people standing near the glass; they all wore the same outfit. With a squint, Sarah identified the 101 on the back, the same as the smaller man wore. These were the missing Vault residents…

Sarah blinked a moment, "What the hell is going on here?"

She was startled by a dark voice, "Do you want me or your companion here to answer that?"

Sarah wheeled around, fists up. She could see Gallows restrained by what sounded like a single soldier. The only thing she could make out of Gallows' captor was glowing red eye-plates. Sarah felt her stomach drop, but she said nothing. They were compromised. To her surprise the speaker was another man that simply walked from the darkness. Sarah noticed he was sharply dressed as he approached the window. He had a peculiar contraption in his hand, that had many different buttons that surrounded a keyboard and a central screen.

"Ah, where to start," the man asked playfully.

"Well, I believe the Wasteland owes the Enclave a great debt," the man declared. Sarah's nostrils flared vehemently at the mention of the hated faction.

"And why would you say that," she threatened.

The man smirked, "They saved your Lone Wanderer from an imminent death at a very young age."

Sarah's eyes widened slightly, "How?"

The man did not answer her he only pushed down a button and spoke into the control, "Here's your chance for revenge, Neal."

* * *

Amata could hear the ire in Neal's voice. This was the first time Neal was alone with Wally, technically. Amata recalled the last time the two had met. She had been forced to step between the two of them. Neal had relented to her pleas to keep it civil. He had done a lot for her that day, more than anyone had ever done for her. And yet, she was forced to cast him out.

Amata glanced at Susie, whose face was pressed against the glass. Everyone knew Wally was in serious trouble, though no one seemed to disagree that getting the pulp beaten out of him wasn't unwarranted.

Neal's voice was dark, "I recall a time, Wally, where you once bragged about your father's _'heroic act'_ when he saved Stanley from _'certain death',_" the Wanderer's mocking tone dripping with hatred.

Wally nodded nervously, his head bobbing excessively.

The Wanderer moved a step closer, "And you said," a recording crackled to life, Wally's voice sounding slightly younger played, _"But I guess you wouldn't know what its like to have a hero for a dad, would you?"_

The Wanderer's jaw tensed.

Another recording crackled to life, this time activated by Neal's Pip-Boy. It was Three Dog:

"_Hello Capital Wasteland," the DJ said morosely, "It is a sad day in the Capital Wasteland. Just how far would one family go to return pure, radiation free water to all? The answer is all the way. After years of work and even paying with his own life, James Washington's sacrifice was still not enough. Dedicating their lives to their work, James and Catherine Washington put their last hope in their only child, a son. A man we know as our heroic Lone Wanderer. Sadly, the price would take the last living Washington's life. Reports have come in saying the Lone Wanderer volunteered to enter the fatally irradiated purifier, knowing it would take his life. His body has been recovered and was found unresponsive. All we can do is pray for a miracle. Hang in there, Wanderer. _

This news seemed to come as a shock to all of the Vault dwellers, none of them knew of Neal's sacrifice. Neal stole a glance at Amata whom was holding back tears.

Wally stammered, trying to find words to calm Neal down.

"L-Look man, I'm sorry, I didn't know!"

The Wanderer stared at him coldly, "I think you know why it is I hate you, Wally."

Wally said nothing, only taking a step back.

Neal moved closer, "You always were Butch's little bitch."

Wally's face contorted irritably, "I AM NOT-"

His rebuttal was cut short by a freight train of a punch to the face. Wally soared backwards, colliding with the glass.

The Wanderer turned his back to Wally daring him to fight as he paced away.

"Whatever you say. You still-"

The Wanderer felt Wally's fist connect with the back of his head with an odd metallic clunk. He was inwardly surprised that he felt no pain or recoil from the hit.

* * *

Amata could feel the fear in the air as Neal turned around slowly. A devilish smile crossed Neal's his face at the sight of Wally clutching his hand. Wally backed into the glass and began to brace himself for a beating, "Don't kill me," Wally begged.

"No Wally, I want to make you suffer like I did," Neal hissed. He threw a powerful left uppercut in Wally's direction. Wally was able to elude the punch as it thundered against the glass, leaving a large crack. Neal's knuckles busted open and blood began to trickle. The curious Wanderer gently pulled the flaps of skin apart, revealing unusually shiny bones. They shone like metal in the light. _Adamantium._

Amata tried to stop her, but the amber-haired Susie Mack, moved too quickly. She pressed her hands against the glass near her brother and screamed at Neal to stop. Her pleas didn't appear to affect the Wanderer. He simply stared at her.

"There will never be a friendship between us. If you knew any better, you would leave me alone," he responded.

Susie's face went pale. She obviously didn't expect Neal to remember what she said to him before the G.O.A.T. six years ago. Amata though, knew better than any of how amazing Neal's memory was. Neal continued towards Wally, obviously enjoying scaring him than actually hurting him.

Susie turned to Amata, "You need to do something! He's going to kill my brother!"

"What do want me to do," Amata responded defensively.

Susie grabbed her shoulder, "Look, we all knew about, uh, you two. Regardless of how things are… He's always cared about you. If not for that we would still be trapped in the vault. Whether you admit it or not, he came back for _you_, no one else. If it were just us, he would have let us rot."

Amata nodded slowly, she had honestly never thought of it that way. Maybe she had kept those thoughts away for reason. After all, she had broken her own heart for no reason other than the old grudges of others would not allow them to be together.

Susie's voice brought Amata back to the present, "Just _please_ don't let him kill Wally. I know Wally," she paused for a moment,  
"_We_ all were cruel to him," Susie's eyes dropped to the floor at this admission, "But he doesn't deserve to die," Susie pleaded.

Amata relented, but before she could say anything, she was grabbed from behind. A voice spoke to her, "She's right, Amata. Come, let us test that theory."

The other vault dwellers watched in horror. Julian jumped into action. He threw a punch at Amata's captor but was quickly restrained.

* * *

Wally continued to nurse his wounded hand as the Wanderer simply leaned against the operating table with his eyes closed, his arms crossed. "Look, man," Wally started, Neal's eyes shot open, "I don't know what they did to you, but," Wally sniffed at the blood running from his nose, "You don't deserve this. We never deserved you either," Wally said, his voice shaking with exhaustion.

Neal began to quarrel with himself. The voices in his head arguing, "After all the shit he put you through? You're just gonna let him off with a half assed speech? They didn't deserve you," the cynical, dark voice said mockingly, "Damn right they didn't deserve you, and they sure don't now. Kill him!"

Neal moved forward obeying his conscience. He hoisted Wally from the ground by his throat pressing him against the glass.

Neal could hear another voice speaking to him, "Stop! He doesn't deserve to die!"

The Wanderer realized the voice wasn't in his head by the sensation of a hand on his arm. He snapped out from the imprisonment of his mind and locked eyes with the hazel eyes of the hand's owner.

Neal's dazzling blue eyes were confused as they stared at Amata. She realized she had at the very least gotten his attention, but couldn't bring herself to speak. She could see the tortured look in his eyes. A sense of pity rose within Amata, he needed her right now.

"Remember who you are, Neal! The Lone Wanderer wouldn't do this," she pleaded. Much to her surprise, Wally thumped to the floor.

Amata's moment of relief ended quickly when she saw the affect it had on the Wanderer.

He was now kneeling, body convulsing as though being electrocuted, he grunted and strained as though fighting himself. Amata froze, unsure of what to do. She watched as he reached for his own neck. He appeared to grab ahold of something invisible that lay around his neck and began to pull at it.

"Why are you doing this," Neal asked.

Amata wasn't sure if he was talking to her.

"I won't," Neal protested.

Amata realized there was more to the situation than she knew. Something wasn't right with the Wanderer. Amata looked for the scar on Neal's forehead, but could find none. _Oh no…_

Neal came to his feet awkwardly and continued to fight an invisible force. He began towards Wally. Amata knew she needed to act fast.

She could hear a voice distantly, egging Neal on, "Good, now finish him!" It was the same voice that she heard before she was shoved into this torture chamber.

Without hesitation, Amata threw herself in front of Wally.

Neal paused, staring at her blankly.

"This is your last mistake," Neal said gravely.

Amata shielded herself, preparing for death.

After a moment, Amata looked around, confused. It was then she saw the horrific scence of Wally Mack's neck being snapped by Neal's might. The horrified cries from the vault dwellers could be heard through the glass. Neal stared down at Wally emotionlessly.

Neal's gaze returned to Amata, he simply stared, his torso heaving as he battled his emotions. He continued to watch her as she crouched over Wally's maimed body. Amata could see the disbelief in Neal's eyes, he was fighting a war with himself. Amata knew she was in more danger she had ever been in her life. A small part of her, the part that still loved Neal, believed he would never hurt her.

"What's the matter with you! How could you kill him," Amata cried, her voice shocked.

"What's the matter with me, Amata," Neal shouted back. "You don't have a goddamned clue what's wrong with me," his voice faded dangerously as his temper began to flare.

"What happened to you," Amata said standing, her voice still horrified.

"Hmmm," Neal said, pondering sarcastically, "Where to start? Could it have been my childhood? My teenage years," Neal could see Amata's disagreement, "No? Surely, it was the Wastes! You sound just like your psychotic father," Neal shouted.

"How can you say that," Amata gasped.

"Because you refuse to see what's right in front of you," Neal's voice lowered, "You made me this way."

Amata's face crumpled, she fought to hold back tears.

Neal moved a step closer, "Everything I've done for you," his voice shaking with anger. He turned to the vault dwellers, "For ALL of you! And how do you treat me? Like absolute shit!"

Neal turned back to Amata, "But when trouble befalls you helpless little vaulties, who do you string back in?"

Amata finally spoke, shouting through tears, "It's not like that!"

"Then tell me, Amata. What _is_ it like," Neal responded sarcastically.

"If there was any way for you to come back, you know I would have done it, Neal," Amata cried.

Neal laughed, "The last thing I want is to be stuck in that fucking prison. I wasn't planning on staying, the Wastes is my home," Neal glanced at Christine, Freddie, Susie, and the others. They had been surprisingly nice to him in their more recent encounters. They had appreciated what he had done and held nothing against him for the aftermath of his escape.

Neal's voice was soft and pained, "Do you have any idea what I that did to me? I almost…"

Amata's face went pale, it seems she meant more to him than she had thought, even after being away for so long. She shamed herself silently. She should have known… He came back.

"Neal, I'm so sorry… I know words won't fix what I did but…"

"You're damn right they can't," Neal shouted, his fists thundering against the glass on each side of Amata. His face was less than a foot from hers and his eyes were wild.

* * *

Sarah could hear someone come up beside her, she turned to see the glowing red eye plates staring at her. She could make out a gas mask that covered the majority of the face as well as an old world military-style helmet over top of it all.

A distorted voice spoke to her, "The door is unlocked, you should hurry down there. There isn't much time left."

Sarah glanced at the long black duster briefly and headed for the door. There wasn't any time for talk.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Neal. I didn't mean what I said. I was so caught up in my new role as Overseer… I never thought you would come back. It always seemed we were meant to be apart, ever since you left the vault four years ago," Amata met his eyes, "I never meant to hurt you," she gently touched his face, "I just thought things were better off that way," her eyes cast down, looking at the many scars on his body. "The Wasteland needs you more than I do." Her hazel eyes met his again, "I don't want it to be that way, but that's the way it is. But I still-," she was cut off by a pounding on the glass.

"Neal," and woman's voice called. Amata could see Neal light up. He moved over to the blonde woman in wore power armor on the other side of the glass.

Neal turned back and looked at Burke, "I'm hallucinating, aren't I?"

Burke shrugged, "Are you?"

Amata was still dazed, and a tad defensive, "Who is she, Neal?"

Neal looked back at the woman, his sad face turned into a genuine, handsome smile as he realized she was real. Neal pressed his hands against the glass where hers rested, "Sarah! We need to stop meeting like this," he joked.

A smile came to Sarah's face briefly, "Neal listen, there isn't much time," her face went grim, "I just want to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left. I knew something was wrong," Sarah looked at the ground, "I just… assumed you would be able to handle it… And I was wrong," she looked back at him, "I'm sorry. I love you."

This came as a shock to everyone in the room save for Neal. Amata felt her stomach drop.

Neal looked back at her sadly, "No Sarah, it's my fault. I was the one who hid it from you. Don't blame yourself, please. I…"

Suddenly, Neal's eyes rolled up his into head. His body went stiff as a board and crashed to the floor. He went limp at impact. The glass door to the room slid down, allowing Sarah inside. Both Amata and Sarah ran to Neal's side, exchanging a terse glance. The rest of the Vault dwellers moved in as well, gathering around. Susie moved over to her dead brother, sobbing.

Julian pushed his way down to Neal and pressed two fingers to a point just below Neal's jawline. "There's no pulse," he said, looking grimly at Amata. Julian's hazel eyes went to Burke, "It was like flipping off a switch… What did you do to him!"

Burke smiled, "As I've told the Sentinel here," all of the vault dwellers' eyes shot to Sarah. They had heard of the Brotherhood of Steel's battle goddess.

"The Lone Wanderer was dying. It's a shame, really," Burke's voice had no hint of sadness, "He was just a boy, but no one seemed to hesitate putting impossible tasks on his shoulders and expect him to perform time and again. You see, the Wanderer went through a crude surgery while in Maryland. His head was sawed open, and a piece of his brain removed," everyone stared down at Neal's body, horrified.

"Amazingly, he survived and managed to save the day. He returned here on sheer willpower alone, but he knew he didn't have much time left. He suffered from paranoid delusions and unbelievable pain. I simply granted him relief from that pain," Burke said.

"You can take him for burial. It seems he did catch up with dear mommy and daddy after all," Burke said with a mocking laugh.

He received many glares from the crowd gathered before him.

Sarah looked down at Neal's lifeless face, "I'm sorry, Neal." Amata said a similar apology, and touched his left arm gently. She looked up to see the Sentinel's intimidating glare, burning a hole into the back of her skull.

And now for all of them, the shame lay ahead of returning Neal's body to the Capital Wasteland.

* * *

**A/N:**** Fear not my friends, the story is far from over. R&R.**

**TS**


	9. Chapter 9: Chaos is Coming

**A/N:**** Sorry for the wait guys, but unfortunately a college sport and school take precedence. I will do my best to keep updates rolling but alas, I can make no promises. I hope you understand if it's awhile before I update again. Maybe a few encouraging reviews will kick me into gear if I get lazy. As for this chapter, I have to say it was a challenge. I redrafted this chapter at least 3 times, but I'm happy with the result. After this chapter, the action is finally gonna start up... I think, but that may change. Enjoy!**

* * *

Fawkes and Charon lead the silent group. They spoke to no one as their lifeless friend was carried from Smith Casey's Garage. Fawkes volunteered wordlessly to carry his late friend. Miles passed, and still the procession said nothing. Even the haggard, unwashed vault dwellers remained speechless. Though well hidden, Charon could see a fire alight in one woman's eyes. She was pretty, though her hair was greasy and unkempt, and her face looked worn-down.

A familiar looking vault dweller had his arm around her reassuringly. Though he couldn't remember the man's name, Charon recalled trading with him a few times over the years. Charon continued to subtly peek back, this woman, he assumed, must be Amata. A name he had watched become poison in Neal's mouth.

Charon watched as Amata cast a wary glance in the Sentinel's direction. He couldn't help but wonder what had all transpired in the vault. More importantly, he wondered what had happened to his friend. His body showed no evidence of his demise.

As far as Charon knew, it was everyone's fault. Everyone that entered the vault was one hundred percent responsible. None were more responsible than Sarah Lyons herself.

Fawkes' face lit up as he spotted a greenish-brown glow coming from a depression in the charred landscape. The mutant picked up the pace and began to jog towards the irradiated puddle. Neal's body bobbled with every step; finally, Fawkes came to a stop in the irradiation. The vault dwellers' Pip-Boys crackled, the sound of the Geiger counter causing them to back up cautiously. Sarah did not appear worried about the radiation in the least as she anxiously watched the Wanderer. They waited for a several minutes, the time required for advanced radiation poisoning.

"Come on old friend," Fawkes murmured, giving Neal a light shake. The Wanderer's head bobbled limply.

"It isn't working," Charon sighed.

Fawkes sadly turned to the others, still carrying the Wanderer.

Gallows came up beside the Sentinel.

"We should have played by the rules…" Sarah said regretfully.

Gallows turned to Sarah, "We don't negotiate with enemies, and you know that. Besides, they probably would have done this regardless if we followed their demands or not."

Charon turned to them, "Now you'll never know," he chastised.

Amata stepped in. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"None of your business, vault dweller. Now, see to your people," Sarah said dismissively.

Amata physically bristled, "It is too my business! He's my friend and the vault was his home!"

"You're exactly right. The vault _was_ his home," Sarah said with mock agreement.

"Neal is a Star Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, and therefore, _my _responsibility," Sarah leaned forward staring daggers at the other woman.

Julian stepped between the two women.

"Hey! We have bigger problems right now!" he cut in.

"Burke's people are probably moving for DC right now! Everyone is in danger! If we don't work together everyone's a sitting duck," the reality of Julian's words dispelled the situation.

"Sentinel, what's our next move," Julian asked.

Sarah glanced at the falling sun.

"We spread out in pairs looking for an overpass or some sort of shelter for the night. It's gonna get cold fast and we need shelter from the wind and potential attacks," Sarah said her voice taking on the hard, commanding tone she was used to.

_This she could handle. Treat the vault dwellers as the incompetent civilians they are and improvise with the firepower she had. _

Being a soldier was what Sarah did best. In fact, she was debatably _the _best.

She stole a sad glance at Neal's body. The personal, romantic part on the other hand, she had gravely failed at.

Sarah felt a wave of anger rising like heat through her body at the sound of Amata's voice piping up again.

"Why is she giving the orders?" Amata glared at Sarah. She knew Sarah had something to do with Neal's death.

Sarah found Julian's annoyed expression surprising considering the hints of a romance she had witnessed between the two.

"Because she's the Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel! With her here, we actually have a shot at surviving. She obviously knows a thing or two about survival. I'm glad she's here! We might already be dead if she and her friends weren't here!"

Sarah smirked inside, Amata probably hadn't expected that.

The exasperated Overseer bit her tongue, casting a withering glare at Julian. The caravaneer ignored her and walked towards the other vault dwellers.

Sarah watched as Amata did the same, passing by Sarah with a glare. Sarah caught her by the arm. The Overseer squirmed, but Sarah's firm grip wouldn't surrender.

"And if you don't do _exactly _as I say, I'll punch in that pretty little face of yours. Got it?" Sarah threatened tightening her grip.

Amata nodded, and ripped her arm free when the Sentinel loosened her hold.

Sarah ordered everyone to pair up. She made a few corrections to the pairings so each had one combat proficient member, and one helpless member, as she liked to call them in her head.

"Each of you vault dwellers, pair up with one of these veterans. I know a few of you have some experience, but until you find weapons you're shit out of luck," Sarah said, looking at Susie, Christine, and Julian.

"Caravaneer, Julian, is it?" Sarah asked.

"Yes?"

"I've got a separate job for you. Speak with me when we're through pairing."

Charon went with Christine, Fawkes with Susie, and Gallows went with Freddie.

After the three groups had left, Sarah spoke with Julian alone. Amata loitered out of earshot, keeping an eye on the surrounding area.

"The way he died…" Sarah wasn't allowed to finish her sentence before Julian jumped in.

"It was unnatural. Like someone flipped off a switch. It was Burke, I guarantee. They did something to his head," Julian said thoughtfully.

"Some of the technology they had… I've never seen anything like it," Sarah confessed.

Julian frowned, "Me either," he trailed off, "But there has to be something… I mean, Burke invested a lot into the Wanderer, he wouldn't just kill him off like that…"

Sarah nodded, "Which means, at some point..."

"He'll wake up," Julian finished.

"Until then, you and the Overseer watch over him. I'm gonna scout ahead," Sarah said, unstrapping the laser rifle from her back.

* * *

Fawkes and Susie had found a crumbling overpass with a good vantage point as well as shelter. The overpass was large enough to effectively block the harsh winds of the wastes at night. A small fire burned, it's glow carried little distance, being swallowed up in the dense darkness. Gallows and Charon had cooked a meal for everyone with the meager rations they carried. The taste was worse than radroach meat, but the nourishment was what they all desperately needed to stay alert and ready for what lay ahead.

While everyone else slept, Sarah scanned over the horizon. It was still dusky out, but the dim morning light gave her enough visibility to man the perimeter. She had volunteered first watch and began to think of better times.

"_Maybe if things were different, we could be… friends," Sarah had said at the conclusion of the war with the Enclave. The Lone Wanderer had almost singlehandedly lifted a great weight off the Brotherhood's shoulders, her shoulders. The enigmatic Wanderer had smiled understandingly. For even in their few interactions, he could see what the Brotherhood meant to her. It was her duty, and nothing would make her jeopardize what she had accomplished. Not even a crush. They both knew the reality of the world they lived in. Any sort of relationship was foolish with the odds they faced._

Sarah smiled, oh had she been wrong. They had been kidding themselves to think that nothing would happen between them while working constantly in close proximity of each other.

Neal was an artist on the field of battle. He moved swiftly and precisely with no wasted effort. His unique style had proved quite effective in the Pride. It took some of the heat off of the specialists. It also made life easier for Sarah, Vargas, and Kodiak. Neal seemed to utilize just about every combat style depending on which suited best to the situation. He could just as much take on the commando role and draw fire so Colvin and Dusk could work their magic, as he could become the one man wrecking ball at the enemy's flank.

Neal was a versatile soldier and a quick learner. He had shadowed Dusk and Colvin, as well as Gallows and Glade. When it came down to it, Neal went to his favorite, high-paced, run and gun style.

It hadn't taken very long for Sarah to break the boundary she had once set between herself and the most influential man in the Wastes. She had heard Three Dog's 'exclusive interview' in which he raved about the Wanderer. The Wanderer had deflected Three Dogs' many attempts to probe into his personal life, romance included, with humor or class. Saying simply, his father 'had taught him not to kiss and tell'. Sarah found the interview hilarious. Three Dog had finally been taken down a notch. It seemed the smooth-talker had been beaten at his own game.

Sarah smiled as she gazed out into the distance. The smile faded when she saw vertibirds resting near Megaton, it was dim in the early morning light.

"The Capital Wasteland is in quiet, well-contained chaos," a distorted male voice came from behind her.

Sarah turned her weapon drawn, expecting Gallows.

Instead, Sarah saw a vaguely familiar soldier. The tall man was quite a sight. His armor was nothing Sarah had seen before. He was clad in dark leather armor with a black duster overtop. A bandoleer served as a belt to what looked like dark dyed jeans. The jeans were customized with sewn-in knee pads, and a holster containing a scoped .44 mag. Sarah could see two customized guns strapped to his back. One looked like some sort of assault carbine with a larger than normal magazine jutting from the action, and the other looked like a scoped .308 hunting rifle. Noting the rare weapons, Sarah proceeded with caution.

"You're the same one from before, aren't you? Why are you here?" Sarah asked warily, not moving her bead from its aim.

"Let's just say, we have similar goals," the man responded vaguely.

"And what would those be?" Sarah's eyes narrowed in question.

"I think you know," the man's voice lowered; it sounded husky through the mask.

Sarah could tell there was no love between this soldier and Burke.

"Then why join them? Why help Burke at all?" Sarah asked suspiciously.

"I have my reasons," the soldier said. Sarah could tell he wasn't going to elaborate on the topic.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Sarah pressed.

"My name is not important," the man dismissed.

"You have to fight back, all of you. Otherwise, the Wastes won't stand a chance," the soldier said. His eye plates were a glowing, mesmerizing red. He turned towards the sleeping party. Sarah thought for a moment, gazing out into the dusky morning.

"Why are you telling me this?" Sarah inquired, turning back to where the man had stood, but found no one.

"Who were talking to?" Gallows asked.

Sarah looked at him tiredly, "Myself probably."

Gallows nodded, "You should get some rest. I'll take watch."

"Yeah, we hit Megaton tomorrow. And from the looks of what we're up against…" Sarah trailed off, trudging away tiredly. She was too tired to even think at the present. The conversation would have to wait until after she rested. Sarah had been up for nearly a day and a half without pause, her body finally winning the battle with her mind, forcing her to rest.

* * *

Amata had stared at Neal's body for what felt like hours. Her heart rested in smithereens at the pit of her stomach. Neal had been right; she had been the death of him, though it seemed an old, forgotten joke of his. Amata had stolen glances at the Sentinel as she solemnly kept guard. Though Amata had jealous and vile thoughts towards the soldier, she couldn't help but respect her ability to push through such a traumatizing loss, and still perform her duty with razor sharp precision. Amata knew she would not hold up the same way.

Being a leader of the vault, Amata admired the books she had read about the old world's military officers. She remembered reading these books for history class with Neal. He had marveled at history, military history especially. They studied the likes of Hannibal, Gen. Douglas MacArthur, Napoleon, Alexander the Great, and even George Washington, with whom he shared a surname.

Finally, Amata fell asleep. Her dreams, however, were haunted with passing moments of her youth.

She remembered a quote from the famed Shawnee native, Tecumseh, that Neal had ripped from one of his books and placed on the wall next to his bed:

"_So live your life so the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their views, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and of service to your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide. Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting or passing a stranger if in a lonely place. Show respect to all people, but grovel to none. When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life and strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies in yourself. Touch not the poisonous firewater that makes wise ones turn to fools and robs them of their visions. When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home."_

_Amata eyed the torn page that was taped to Neal's wall and pondered what it meant._

"_Interesting," Amata mused. _

_Neal had been studying a medical manual at his desk, part of his homework from his father. Also upon his desk, one could find numerous books, a baseball cap, a bat, and a few balls. Neal's untidiness had always driven her crazy, but his baseball skills were unmatched by any in the vault. He smoothed back his slicked-up pompadour-styled hair. It was messy from constantly running his hands through it, a nervous habit of his when he was deep in thought._

_Neal came out of his focused state, and followed Amata's gaze. _

"_Ah Tecumseh of the Shawnee," Neal said with a smile. His boyish features always lighthearted and endearing as he looked at her. _

_For a male of 16, Neal was undersized and immature in his looks. Amata hadn't cared. Neal was far more mature and intelligent than any of the other boys. Perhaps the fact that he wore broken glasses when he was in class added to the bullying._

"_What does it mean?" Amata asked curiously, knowing very well how much Neal enjoyed answering such questions._

_Neal smiled, "That's the thing with quotes, it means something different to everyone," he smiled, his eyes narrowing slightly._

"_What's it mean to you?" Amata inquired seeing the glint of pride in his eyes._

"_To me, it exemplifies the conduct I strive to live by. 'Seek to make your life long and of service to your people,' he quoted from memory. To me, a long life means a life well lived, not in years, but in lives changed and generosity," he looked at Amata, determination in his eyes, "Someday, I'll do something important. What that is, I have no idea. But for now, I'm just a nerd," Neal smiled half-heartedly, the bullying had been rough on him in his earlier years, but as Neal grew older, he simply ignored them._

_Amata knew his mother's death pressured Neal to go above and beyond the rest. She recalled hearing Neal mutter something about his mother haunting him if he were to become a garbage burner. It was some sort of joke between Neal and his father, James. _

"_What do you mean?" Amata prodded._

_Neal's bright blue eyes flashed to hers, and their hands intertwined "I just… feel like I don't belong here. I mean, the vault has been my home since I can remember,"_

_Amata pulled him up to his feet so they stood inches from each other, "Neal, don't let them do that to you, you're better than that," her hazel eyes firm, but affectionate. Neal shook his head, "It's not the Tunnel Snakes… or anyone for that matter. And I know, 'we're born in the vault, and we die in the vault,' but," Neal deadpanned the morbid vault phrase. His eyes flashed with imagination. "I'm meant for something more… bigger than the vault. Here I'm just the outcast…"_

"_Oh, so I'm not enough for you? I'm an outcast too!" Amata's voice was angry and hurt._

_Neal's expression changed dramatically, "That's not what I meant, Amata…" he said apologetically._

_Before he could say anymore, she walked away. He let her go, like always. But he would always come back, knowing exactly what to say. His sincerity was one of his best qualities. It seemed he would always come for her when the moment was right, after they both cooled down. For a nerd, Neal was quite romantic, when he wanted to be. The memories of their intimate nights together, every secret shared, every consoling hug, every first, flooded through Amata's dreams._

For a moment, she lapsed back into consciousness. From her reclined position, she could still see Neal's body, covered in a blanket. She noticed there was another form beside him.

The Sentinel lay beside him, her bulky steel armor was dissembled by her pack. Her long blonde hair was undone and fell around her as she rested her head on Neal's shoulder. She hadn't noticed Amata, for her eyes never left Neal's face. In that moment, the Sentinel looked human, and even more surprisingly, feminine. Amata had to admit, Sarah Lyons was quite attractive. Amata could see a familiar look in the Sentinel's blue eyes. A look that resembled what Amata felt inside… shame and disappointment.

As Amata drifted off to sleep, she swore she saw a dark figure moving towards the makeshift camp. It seemed all the emotions of the past few days, all of the stress and exhaustion, combined into one large cascading waterfall. All the energy the Overseer had left was sapped. Amata couldn't will herself to warn the Sentinel, she was too exhausted to move._  
_


	10. Chapter 10: The Black Duster

Amata was semiconscious, stirred by anxious voices. She could hear name being called by someone familiar, but she presumed it a dream and did nothing.

A light shake startled Amata; she blinked awake to see Julian's worried face looking down at her. His green eyes were wide with alarm, as were a few others.

The Sentinel stood, tower-like in her steel armor. Her chin was pinched in thumb and forefinger as she stared blankly at the ground. The other Brotherhood soldier stood next to her looking out into the distance, his head shielded entirely by his helmet.

As Amata's eyes darted around taking a head count, she noticed they were one short. One body short.

"Where's Neal?" Amata practically shouted, her voice shocked with sudden realization. She knew it was a rhetorical question, for they wouldn't be sitting here if they knew. The silence confirmed her question.

Amata looked to Julian for an explanation.

He wiped his forehead nervously, "We don't know where Neal is. No one saw anything. He must have walked off," Julian trailed off.

Amata's expression widened with shock, "He's _dead_, how could he just walk off?!"

"I don't know. We don't think he's dead. Not entirely. But he's under Burke's control," Julian said, his voice drained of hope.

The color from Amata's face drained, "Why didn't anyone tell me this earlier?"

"There's nothing we can do now," Sentinel Lyons said her face was all business, "He's had a quite a head start."

"So what are we going to do?" Christine asked.

"We hit Megaton," the Sentinel ordered.

"There's a weapons cache nearby we can use to equip everyone," Gallows added.

"Pack up your shit, we move in five," said Sarah who glanced out at the horizon, keeping a wary eye on her surroundings as always.

"What about the Vault? Can't we go home?" Christine asked.

Sarah's voice was as emotionless as her voice, "As soon as you help us with Megaton, you're free to do whatever the hell you want."

* * *

_**Bury me with my guns on, so when I'm cast out of the sky, I can shoot the devil right between the eyes.**_

Neal was dead… or dreaming, he couldn't quite tell. He could see his parents standing together before him arms resting around the small of each other's backs. They both smiled at him proudly as he approached them.

"Dad? Mom?!" a puzzled Neal stuttered.

They only smiled at him. As Neal continued to stumble forward, he glanced down at himself. He wore not his usual armor, but instead a simple white beater and trousers with dangling suspenders, his favorite leisurely outfit. He walked closer to them, staring at his mother, Catherine. Her darkened complexion was similar to that of Neal's. He could see his own features in his mother's beautiful face, such as her intense blue eyes and dark hair. He was unable to pull himself away from her. He had never seen his mother in person before, none of the photos his father showed him did her justice.

"Am I dead?" Neal asked, his voice echoing strangely off the blindingly white surroundings.

"No my son, you're in a coma, induced by very powerful drugs," James said. Neal could scarcely believe he was hearing his father's voice after what felt like centuries. "You're friends believe you dead due to your masked life signs."

Neal's gaze fell to the invisible floor, "Then I've failed."

For the first time, Neal heard his mother's voice, "No Neal, you've done more than your father and I ever dreamed. We're so proud of you."

Neal couldn't find the will to smile back, "I've failed. Everyone will suffer under Burke. Everything we worked for will be undone."

Faintly in the distance Neal could hear voices that were no more than whispers, _"You're alright for a smoothskin… Yeah, of course I'll run the place. It's the only home I got. I don't wanna know what ya did with Moriarty… Not like the bastard didn't deserve it though" _

"_Too bad you're so young kid. I could teach you things you'd __**never**__ forget… I don't know why you give a shit about a whore like me, but thank you. I'll turn my life around, maybe help Gob…"_

"_I wish I had more than words to thank you for what you've done for me and my family. Thank you for getting Ian back..."_

"_The people of Megaton owe you a greater debt than we can repay. The only thing I can really offer is to live among us… They just don't make em like you anymore, kid…"_

The voices that called to Neal were ones of the past, important people, and defining moments.

"_Are you a mail carrier? Oh, I do hope my fall catalogue is in!" _

Neal's brow furrowed. Why was that important? He glanced at his parents smiling before him and let the words flood around him in a whirlwind.

"_It's the Wanderer! Kill him and we'll be richer than Tenpenny himself! _

"_You're just a damn goodie two shoes!"_

"_Welcome to Galaxy News Radio! He's more than a man, but short of a god. Wanderer, the wastes have turned humanity against each other, but you remain an unwavering figure of all that is good. What has helped you stay so benevolent?"_

"_Oh my goodness, you look just like him! You're all grown up!" "_

"_Well, you happened… After you were born Project Purity came to a halt…"_

"_Stop looking for your dad and help stop mine... If you're still out there and care enough… you'll remember it…"_

"_You saved us. You're a hero, but there are still people who believe the vault's problems are your fault. I have to ask you to leave the vault forever. I'm sorry. Goodbye for now. I'll see you in the wastes someday…"_

"Oh my god! Lucky I ran into you out here, who better than the hero of the wastes to come to my rescue. Things are going better in the vault since you last left, so thank you. I know Amata misses you a lot…"

"_Well, I don't blame you for how you feel towards us. I'm sorry for how we treated you when we were growing up, but I suppose you get the last laugh. Take care out here, Neal…"_

"_Listen, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but just stay out of our way and let us do our jobs. Tag along and try not to get killed…"  
"Welcome to the Lyons' Pride, the most elite squad in the Brotherhood of Steel's East Chapter. You've certainly impressed us all…" _

"_So, do we draw straws? This isn't how I expected it to go… The Wastes will not forget your sacrifice. I won't either. Steel be with you. Goodbye…"_

_"Surprised to see me?"_

"_I never thought I'd say this to anyone. You especially, considering how we first met. I'm not any good at this emotional stuff, but I'm not afraid either. I'm better because of it. I love you Neal…"_

Neal blinked hard, bringing himself back to his mother as he heard her speak, "There are so many people depending on you, honey. You can't give up now. I can't bear what they've done to you, but you survived it all in spite of everything. I couldn't be more proud," she said passionately, her voice burning with pride.

"Definitely better than a garbage burner," James joked, causing the entire Washington family to laugh together for the first time.

"You can't die yet, Neal. A lot yet lays ahead," James said to his prodigious son.

"There's light at the end of the tunnel. There will be much happiness. We will still be waiting for you no matter how long it takes," he continued.

"We love you, Neal," Catherine said with a smile.

His mother's face began to recede, her face growing gaunter by the second. When finally his mother became nothing more than a skeleton as her bones clattered to the ground. The sounds of a spiking heart rate monitor could be heard. His father merely faded in an irradiated cloud. The monitor beep slowed to a flat line. It was eerily similar to the nightmare from the Punga tree. He fought it with all of his will. What did it all mean?

Neal faded from the scene, he found himself standing before the many moments in his life he nearly bit the dust.

Outside of Galaxy News Radio, the various vaults he visited, Super Duper Mart, Greyditch, Minefield, Germantown Police HQ, Raven Rock, Adams Air Force base, to name a few. There were many moments where the Lone Wanderer thought he would die. Many times he thought his luck would run out, but yet he found a way out. He wondered where he Thinking back on all of the hardships he endured, Neal knew there had to be a great amount of luck involved with his legacy. Despite all of the letdowns and heartbreaks, it made him all the stronger. It made him the Lone Wanderer.

Above all else, the Lone Wanderer was known for his indomitable willpower and stinginess. Truthfully, as he thought back on his life, Neal was ready to die. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he left the world a better place, for there was no one alive who could come close to the accolades he had attained. It was a lonely life he led, a lot of time spent on the move and in the fray. There was no future for settling down in sight. Neal was a rare, drying breed in a harsh, unforgiving world. Sarah was one such person he could confide in.

It was with this the Wanderer realized as much as he wanted this final break. He couldn't simply leave everyone behind. No matter how much some deserved to see what it was like to not have someone to drape their problems on, he knew he couldn't die now. Not now.

* * *

"Everyone equipped?" Sarah asked, strapping some microfusion cells to her hip.

Everyone sounded off, some were nervous, while others were perfectly calm.

Sarah looked over the vault dwellers. Bravo team consisted of Christine, Freddie, and Susie. They were all equipped with leather armor, Chinese assault rifles, and 10mm's as a sidearm. Their main object was to provide suppressing fire for Alpha team when needed. Alpha team consisted of Sarah, Charon, and Gallows. Fawkes was a heavy strike and leader of Bravo team. Equipped with a Gatling Laser and a Super Sledge, Sarah made it clear she wanted Fawkes to make his attacks controlled and blow open any defenses. The Sledge was only to be used if absolutely necessary. Julian was also considered part of Alpha team, but served as an over watch sniper. He was equipped with a sniper rifle, refusing armor claiming he was better off without it. Amata was assigned to be his spotter and was given leather armor as well with a 10mm and a combat knife as a last resort.

"Alright, Bravo team, keep your ears peeled. When you see Fawkes move to fire, you follow his crosshairs and fire at the enemy positions. I don't care if you hit the enemy, just keep the enemy pinned down for us," Sarah ordered, earning nods from each of the team members. She could see the sense of purpose renewed in the vault dwellers' eyes. Now, they could actually fight their oppressors. They could seek to avenge those lost.

"As for over watch, stay down and make your shots count. Get some high ground and keep checking your six. Alpha, you know what to do," Sarah said, "Let's move out." _And hope like hell Neal isn't there…_

Amata clutched her 10mm pistol and groped against the rotted remains of a pre-war house. She kept her eyes peeled on the area nearby Springvale Elementary, knowing very well it was a hotspot for raiders. Amata pulled the binoculars that dangled from her neck to her eyes and scanned the terrain.

"No movement," she reported to Julian, who in turn relayed a hand signal back to the rest of the group.

Sarah took point with Charon at her six. She checked her angles reflexively and proceeded forward, viewing the terrain down the sights of her laser rifle. Besides her own, Sarah saw little to no movement. There was no wind, and the only sound that could be heard was her footsteps.

Sarah and Charon continued forward towards the gas station, taking cover behind the skeletons of the scattered cars. It was then Sarah heard the familiar 'clink' of bullets ricocheting from her armor. She crouched lower, noticing the small knick that ran along her right shoulder pauldron.

Judging by the angle of the laser's path, the shot came from up the path.

"Overseer, can you spot anything," Sarah shouted.

Amata scanned the terrain, "Enclave power armor," she said to Julian.

"Weak points, higher ground?" Julian asked, engaging the action of his rifle.

"Looks like the areas around sockets are exposed, hips and shoulders," Amata reported.

* * *

A figure clad in a black military duster and gas mask approached the cog. In the figure's gloved hand was .44 revolver, the hammer was cocked and wielded with an experienced aim.

As vault security watched the footage from their office, they began to suit up.

"Is that Washington?" Officer Gomez asked nervously.

"If it is, I wanna know what that bastard's done with my daughter," Allen Mack said through gritted teeth. He hadn't forgotten Steve's death at the Wanderer's hands all those years ago, and now his daughter had been kidnapped in mysterious circumstances.

"Wanderer, is that you?" Officer Gomez tentatively said over the microphone.

The man did not respond.

Allen shoved the senior officer aside and grabbed the mike, "What the fuck did you do with my daughter?" Allen shouted.

Still no response.

The only reaction from the man was his hands moving at the door controls.

"We changed the password, he can't get in," Officer Kendall reassured.

As if on cue, the vault door beeped and subsequently began to recede.

"What the fuck?" Kendall said shocked.

"Armor up," Gomez ordered, "We don't know who that is that the door, and he's well armed."

Upon reaching the sealed door that lead to the steel cog, the inexperienced and poorly equipped security team fearfully prepared for the worst. Gomez moved up to the door and rested his back against it.

Allen Mack, a newly appointed militia member, volunteered to breach the door. He nodded to Officer Gomez who took extra pains to move the door as silently as possible.

Mack rushed through the door and was about to check his corners. No sooner had he crested the entrance, when he found himself quickly but effectively disarmed and placed into a vice like hold. An armored forearm held him tightly by the jugular and the barrel of a gun was pressed firmly into his lower back.

"Tell your rent-a-cop friends to stand down," a gruff voice ordered, it was slightly distorted through the mask, striking fear into Mack's false bravado.

"Like he-," Allen wasn't able to finish the retort, his windpipe completely devoid of oxygen as the armored forearm continued to press tighter.

"Now," the voice rumbled, the impatience sounding fatal.

"O-okay," Allen managed, his face turning redder as he struggled to breathe. The man released him, but kept his gun pressed into Allen's back.

"Stand down!" Allen shouted, his voice more fearful than hoped to show.

The rest of the officers cautiously came through the door, weapons still raised. Upon seeing Allen held hostage, they did not put them down.

"We've been held at gun point enough! What do you people want?! Where are our kids?!" Gomez shouted, his voice exasperated.

The man didn't respond, he only proceeded to drag Allen Mack in front of him, keeping a human barrier between him and the security forces.

He moved backwards down the stairs, lifting Allen up with one arm and carrying him upright. The man continued to drag Allen around the corner, and from the sounds of things, knocked him unconscious with the butt of his revolver.

The officers began to apprehensively take aim, waiting for the man to reappear.

Much to their surprise, the man reappeared carrying and unconscious, full-grown man in a fireman's carry. The man was much bigger than Allen.

"Put your weapons down, or you'll end up like your friend over there," the man's rough voice said, gesturing to the far corner.

Officer Kendall appeared to have had enough, taking a poorly aimed shot from a standing position. He was shaking so bad, the bullet was nowhere near its intended target.

Almost immediately following the light ping of Kendall's pistol four loud reports of a .44 responded. Kendall attempted to fire his weapon, but it only made strange clicking noises. The other militia security guards: Gomez, Stanley Armstrong, and Officer Hannon tried as well to fire their weapons, finding they too were broken.

The mysterious man said nothing, only proceeding to enter the main atrium of the vault and vanished down a corridor, the gasps of fearful vault residents could be heard as he passed.

* * *

The skirmish between the Enclave and the motley group of vaulties, Brotherhood soldiers, and mutants (oh my!) had been a back and forth affair with no one appearing to have the upper hand. It reminded Amata of a comic she once read in the vault called _Duck and Cover!_

The children's book illustrated the steps for pre-war civilians to take in the event of a nuclear event. Viewing this from the aftermath, the book was useless, serving only to prevent mass hysteria of the general populace. As if crouching and covering your head was going to protect you from a massive bomb.

But here, on this barren wasteland, duck and cover was an everyday occurrence with all sorts of boogeymen popping from the rotted woodwork to try and kill or eat you.

Observing the Sentinel and the others ducking behind cover, only to pop out and fire bore quite a resemblance to the comic.

Amata watched as the Sentinel pulled a pulse grenade from her belt, pulled the pin and held it for a moment, gripping the handle for a second before hurling it a good 30 yards into the enemy bunker. The explosion sent at least three Enclave soldiers flying in its wake.

The Sentinel glanced over to them, "Fawkes!" she shouted, signaling the super mutant.

All that could be heard was terrifying cackle as the massive green monster reveled in the slaughter. A whirring noise started slowly and gradually grew louder until red lasers fired from the high tech mini-gun, dubbed the Gatling Laser. Alpha broke from cover and began to charge the bunker. Now it seemed, they were on the offensive.

* * *

**A/N:**** Sorry for the delay, 3 tests within 7 days really takes it out of you. Now that I've had a break, I've had time to dabble around on Fallout 3 and return my inspiration. As always, review or PM with questions or comments. Thanks for reading.**

**TS**


	11. Chapter 11: They're Back

**Wow... It's been far too long. I have to admit I've been sitting on this for awhile. So I decided to give you something a little longer than usual as a peace offering. I've been more active lately and I have finally worked out the kinks in this and the next chapter, which I've already begun writing. I've changed my pen name since the previous one was old and I didn't really like it. I also have updated my profile, so if you would like to know a little more about me, check it out. Thanks for sticking with me guys. Enjoy!**

* * *

The ringing in Amata's ears had only grown worse as the battle raged on. The Sentinel and the others had been surprisingly successful despite their small numbers. Sarah Lyons was every bit the battle hardened leader she was described to be. The mutants, said to be Neal's longtime companions were also impressive in their toughness and skill.

Though she looked down on the resort to killing, Amata's view on the ways of the Wasteland were beginning to change. She was beginning to fathom how terrible a place it was and why her father had resisted opening the vault for so long. It truly was survival of the fittest, and by all accounts of his legacy, the Lone Wanderer was the fittest.

Amata blinked absently unable to hear the order the Sentinel yelled to her. Sarah appeared to see this as she shouted yet again.

"GET YOUR FRIEND AND GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" Sarah shouted, she glanced down at Neal's oldest companion, "Dogmeat, go with them, boy." the dog whimpered but it obeyed, much to her surprise.

Through the gunfire, Amata tried to recall exactly what had happened. Who was her 'friend'? She guessed Sarah meant Julian but glancing to her right, her back against a sheet metal shack, Amata saw Susie Mack lying clutching her abdomen and upper thigh, blood soaked the blue armored vault suit beneath her hands. Freddie crouched next to her, favoring his bruised right arm. He was not as accustomed to the kick of a rifle as the others. Julian came to Susie's aid shortly after, "It's a low wound," his voice sounding apprehensive, "We need to get her to safety ASAP." Julian seemed to be limping slightly but he said nothing on the matter. His attention was focused on Susie as he wrapped a makeshift tourniquet to apply pressure on the wound. Christine was the only other vault dweller that remained uninjured. No doubt her previous experience playing a role.

Julian instantly stepped up to the leadership role. "Amata and Freddie, you guys need to focus on carrying Susie and keeping an eye on the bleeding. If it doesn't stop, give her this." Julian tossed Amata a Stimpak. "Christine and I will stay on the lookout for anymore of the Enclave or any other problems. Don't take any chances. If we yell or even signal for a stop, you get to cover." Julian's light green eyes were focused. Amata couldn't help but recognize the look, it reminded her of Neal. It seemed this look had the same effect on her as it did when played upon Neal's handsome features. The attraction aside, Julian didn't have quite the impressive track record Neal did, but Amata felt important, part of a team.

"Megaton is abandoned, which leaves the Vault as our best option. We need to push ourselves if we're going to make it in time. So let's hustle." Julian fed a few rounds into his sniper rifle and began towards Megaton's gates.

Amata looked to Freddie who also moved to help move Susie to a carrying position that didn't cause her pain. Megaton was completely abandoned, leaving the only viable option, Vault 101. It would be a grueling trip if they were to make it back before nightfall, but everyone knew if Susie was to survive it would have to happen.

* * *

Neal awoke to the bright lights of a very familiar medical office. It was once his father's. He was in Vault 101.

Neal's eyes scanned the room, instinctively assessing the situation. A man leaned on the wall directly across from him, looking at the pip-boy on his wrist. Neal was about to make a move on the man when a gruff voice stopped him short.

"Don't try anything, Wanderer."

Neal eyed the man warily.

The man's hair was about shoulder length, but it was combed back a sort of blow back look. His full facial hair added to his rugged appearance. The man's bright blue eyes carried a threat, a look Neal recognized as the same one he saw when he looked into a mirror.

"What's to stop me from killing you?" Neal inquired, obviously suspicious.

"Because they fucked with my head too, and I'm the only one who can fix it," the man said, turning his attention from his pip-boy to Neal.

Neal's face remained hostile as he struggled to recall what he last remembered.

"Fuzzy isn't it?" the man said folding his toned arms across his chest.

"Where's Burke?" Neal said, remembering a fragment of a memory.

"He's busy taking over the Citadel." The man said rather emotionlessly. Whatever the man's interest was with Neal and Burke, he didn't appear to want to share.

"Burke put some pre-war tech in your head. But we'll get to that. Let's make sure you remember some basic info. Sometimes the chip causes memory loss."

Without waiting for an answer the man picked up the clipboard and began to ask questions.

"Your name is Neal L. Washington, correct?"

"Yes."

"What's the L stand for?"

"Lincoln, my parents' favorite president."

The man only nodded and made a mark with the pencil. Neal thought it peculiar that this man knew how to write. Most wasters didn't.

"You were born here, correct?"

"No, I was born outside Vault 101 in the Jefferson Memorial, but I grew up here, unfortunately." Neal said with a hint of irritation.

"You are known quite widely as the Lone Wanderer?"

"Yes."

"In the Battle for the Citadel, which side did you ally yourself?"

"The Brotherhood." Neal said without a moment's hesitation.

* * *

Sarah was dead-tired. She and the others had been fighting continuously for the past eight hours. It had been some time since she had been in a foxhole for so long.

It seemed like today was filled with things she wasn't used to. For once, she wasn't well informed with fresh intel. She was frustrated with the situation as a whole. Upon inspecting the dead, she had discovered their opponents to be little more than raiders. She wondered who had taught them to use power armor, no one outside the Brotherhood save for Neal, knew how to use the armor. Charon and Fawkes had each decided to go their own ways. She remembered Neal talking about Charon's 'contract', she was surprised he stuck with her as long as he did. She understood they were doing nearly the same thing as she, checking up on their own.

Sarah could see the welcomed sight of the Citadel casting shadows before her as the sunset blazed above the fortress' walls. Upon reaching the front gate, Sarah and Gallows found the gate to be wide open.

Her gut dropped when she saw soldiers in black and red power armor standing at the entrance.

"Capture the Sentinel!" a muffled voice shouted.

Sarah raised her hands in surrender, knowing she was surrounded and outnumbered. "Gallows, go!" she ordered, knowing that she needed a man on the outside.

Gallows vanished in the blink of an eye. The Outcast soldiers were too slow to respond, they began to pepper the area with laser beams.

"Fucking traitors! I'll kill every last one of you!" Sarah hissed. She secretly hoped she would at least distract them a little.

"Good luck." One Outcast responded sarcastically.

* * *

Neal's eyes narrowed in thought.

"What exactly does this 'enhancement chip' do?"

"Improved sight, perception, agility, strength, quicker healing, you name it," the strange man said, his voice mildly amused.

Neal gave a suspicious look, "What's the catch?"

The man almost smiled, "I was hoping you weren't a face value kind of individual. The catch is that certain behaviors were drilled into the chip, behaviors that are hard to break, much like habits. The scientists decided to get coy and implement a sort of loyalty and morality code into the chip, but of course they knew nothing of what happens in the fray," the man scoffed. "Luckily, I wasn't installed with such codes. My loyalty was never a question. It was when they got desperate for new Special Forces recruits that they added the codes."

"They suffered from hallucinations and headaches, yes?" Neal said, his medical experience churning full cylinder.

"Yes."

"It sounds a lot like the FEV virus." Neal mused. He was surprised the man nodded, not many knew of the FEV experiment.

"So, I'm guessing Burke messed with the chip?" Neal said, staring at the ground.

The man nodded, "No, most of the issues you are experiencing are the result of that faulty operation in Baltimore."

"Since we're completely surrounded by metal, Burke can't manipulate you. That's why I brought you here," the man said, his voice very military. Much like Neal's when he was in his Wanderer state of mind.

Neal knew better than to ask how he got here.

"There has to be some reason you're doing this other than simple good will." Neal inquired. As he sat up, he noticed how his body felt like it hadn't moved in days.

"We'll get to that." The man eluded. "For now we have to figure out what Burke's next move is."

"I'm surprised he let me go. He hates me something fierce."

Neal noticed a pile of dark armor he had never seen before. The man moved over towards the armor. He nodded towards the opposite corner where Neal's green Reilly's Rangers armor rested.

"Pretty up, we'll talk later." The man ordered.

Neal smirked as he moved over and began to put his armor on. He had been itching for some action. It was a temporary distraction from current issues.

"What do I call you?" he asked.

"John." The man said gruffly.

* * *

Every part of Amata's body ached as she and Freddie carried Susie. She felt bad for even thinking of a complaint when Freddie was doing the majority of the lifting, even with a bad arm. Christine and the dog named 'Dogmeat' lead the group while Julian tagged behind. They were all tired and the dwindling sunset intensified their fears of not making it home alive. Amata swallowed the lump in her throat. She had never been in the wasteland at night before and didn't plan to. The fact that Julian was there was slightly comforting but he was pretty banged up as well. Amata knew quite well that they were undermanned and outgunned in any conventional skirmish.

She and Freddie sat Susie down and injected the area around the wounds with the last of their stimpak reserves. The bleeding refused to stop, but at least the pain was numbed.

Amata flinched at the sound of the Dogmeat's growl. The whistles and thuds of incoming rounds pierced the air shortly after. Amata instinctually ran for cover behind a boulder. Upon reaching the safety of the boulder, the realization dawned upon her. In her frenzy to protect her own life she had left Freddie and Susie behind.

Amata drew her pistol and took a steadying breath. She glanced over at Freddie and Julian who were attempting to drag Susie to cover. Amata forced her exhausted legs to sprint from behind the boulder into the line of fire. She aimed towards the raiders and attempted to suppress them long enough for Freddie and Julian to drag Susie out of the action. She could hear Susie cry out in pain. Christine doubled back towards Susie and also provided covering fire. Dogmeat continued to growl, waiting for the raiders to move closer.

Amata reveled in the adrenaline. Though her poorly aimed shots rarely came close to their target, they seemed to serve the purpose. That was until Amata's 10mm clicked. Empty. Amata cursed as she shakily reached for another clip, crouching down. She caught a glance of the rest of the group they were almost to safety. Amata's satisfaction was cut short when she felt a searing pain along her side like no pain she had ever felt before. It burned like crazy. Amata fell to a knee and looked to Julian, who cried out her name. Christine seemed desperate as she sprayed the hillside with fire.

"Go Amata!" Christine urged, her voice dire. No sooner had she spoke, Christine's rifle sounded with the same disheartening click.

"Shit!" Christine cursed.

Amata continued to fumble with her 10mm clip as a raider began to charge them. Amata's mind screamed at her as she struggled with the blocky pistol. She felt Julian's arm wrap around her waist as he pulled her into him and out of the line of fire.

The raider was only a few yards from them when his head inexplicably exploded into a gory mess of brain in the wake of a loud crack.

Amata and Christine reeled in disgust. They saw the raiders shift their attention to the far hillside, near the vault overlook.

Two more raiders fell, a high-powered rounds exploding the skull of one and a loud hiss literally evaporating another.

A scantily clad female raider shouted to the others to fire for the hillside.

"Fuck! It's him!"

Christine reloaded her assault rifle. Amata attempted to do the same but she could still feel Julian's armored body against hers, she couldn't figure out why he wouldn't let her reload.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Freddie said, his eyes wild with fear.

Christine and Amata both looked at Julian who had a devious smirk on his face, "Watch."

A raider with a dingy comb over moved from cover, a sledgehammer raised above his head. Another man came from the opposite direction, sprinting at full speed. The raider and stranger met head on. Dogmeat sprung into action charging towards the scuffle. Much to the raider's surprise, an uppercut greeted him directly in chin. The raider screamed in pain as Dogmeat's teeth tore into the meat of his wrist. The raider feebly attempted to save his abdomen from the point of his opponent's combat knife, but it was of no avail. Amata could now see the stranger was clad in green armor and wore sunglasses to help him see in the blinding sunset. The stranger pulled the raider to face his allies, absorbing a hail of gunfire the man's body sounded like a sack of meat as it was riddled with metal. The sound ingrained itself in Amata's mind.

Quickly the stranger moved forward, drawing out a black revolver pistol. He crouched behind the skeleton of pre-war car and waited for an opening, Dogmeat was right on his heels, but didn't attack him. The man reached out and stroked the dog affectionately, taking hold of his collar. Amata swore she could hear the man speak to Dogmeat.

A powerful crack pierced the confused cries of the raiders. One raider fell directly where he stood, leaving only three.

The provocatively dressed female raider shouted to the others to retreat. The man in sunglasses almost instantly popped up from cover, the raider's orders cut short by the sound of a high caliber pistol exploding in between her eyes. The stranger continued to fire on the raiders speedily slamming his left hand down on the hammer of the pistol. One raider managed to escape the gunfire and sprint away from the firefight. The man in sunglasses shouted a single command to Dogmeat, the dog rocketing off at an impressive speed. The sound of growls and screams could be heard and then silence.

The stranger jogged over to Amata and the others. He looked quite handsome, if not a little intimidating. Much more believable than the ancient vids from the vault.

The man knelt by Susie and removed his sunglasses, clasping them on his chest plate. Amata noticed a fresh blood stain smeared across the left chestplate, as if Susie's wounds weren't enough, everything was becoming very real to Amata. Everyone stared in disbelief, except for Julian. Who reached out and clasped the Wanderer's hand.

"Good to see you back in action."

It was the Lone Wanderer. Amata barely recognized him with his hair buzzed so short, but there was no mistaking those eyes.

"Neal?" Amata managed. "You were…"

He seemed to ignore her and look at Freddie. His face was as incredulous as Amata's.

"That was amazing!" Freddie exclaimed, though his voice tired.

Neal smirked briefly, but did not answer either of them.

His face was serious again. "We need to get her to the clinic, stat." Neal looked to Julian. "When someone provides your enemy a distraction, you don't sit and watch. Because odds are, the other guys aren't friendly either." Neal reprimanded, his eyes finding the dark stain that oozed through Amata's jumpsuit. Amata could see Julian's excitement wrinkle slightly, she felt the urge to defend him, but what Neal had said rung true.

Neal's attention returned to Susie. He looked her in the eye. "Stay with us." His tone was just the right mix of firmness and understanding, as if he was practiced in such speeches.

Susie was too weak to say or do anything.

Neal lightly wrapped his arms beneath Susie and picked her up relatively easily, despite all of the weapons and munitions hindering his range of motion.

"Come on, let's get back before they close the door." Neal said, Dogmeat following happily at his heels.

"Listen, Susie," he spoke to her without looking at her, his eyes always watching his surroundings. "I need you to keep your eyes open and breathe steadily."

"But… I'm so tired." She said wearily.

"I know. You can rest soon, but _not_ until I say so." Neal said firmly. Amata realized how much he sounded like his father.

* * *

Upon entering Vault 101, Amata felt relief flood over her. For the first time in a long time, Amata was happy to see her father. His weary face lit up upon seeing her, he looked much older than the last time she had seen him. The other families happily descended upon their children. The happy atmosphere changed drastically upon realizing the grim situation that unfolded before them. After a few minutes, everyone's attention turned to Neal and his unnamed companion. The two foreboding armored figures were not something they were accustomed to.

Allen Mack chased after them, demanding he be with his daughter and shouting threats at the Wanderer.

Amata and Alphonse followed them.

"Amata, what happened? I thought you were dead." Alphonse said, his voice genuinely concerned.

"It's a long story, Dad. I can't even think right now until I know Susie's okay. We all need rest." Amata said honestly.

Alphonse nodded and followed her without a word. Since Amata had taken over as Overseer their relationship had become more cooperative. With that thought in mind, Amata turned on her Overseer persona and made her way over to Allen Mack, hoping she could calm him down.

Amata could see Neal standing in the clinic doorway, his stance defensive.

Allen continued to demand that he speak with his daughter.

Amata knew she didn't have much time to work with when she saw the look in Neal's eyes. It was akin to that of a caged animal of the predatory sort. He looked at Amata. "Get your people under control, Overseer."

Amata ignored his tone and did her job.

"Allen, please. I understand you're frustrated. I'll explain everything later, but right now Neal is Susie's best hope. He may not be a doctor, but he has more experience with first aid than any of us." Amata said, trying to prevent any accusations of defending Neal for any other reason.

Allen relented the physical confrontation, but remained furious in his demeanor.

"You better not fuck this up! I already lost Stevie because of you, Washington!"

Amata bit her lip. She supposed there were worse things he could have said. As long as it diffused the situation, she wasn't about to intervene. She was glad he didn't ask about Wally.

No matter how many times she tried to find the reason for Stevie's death, she knew Neal had saved her life that day and she put it in the past.

Neal appeared to have been affected significantly less by Allen's jab. His face was emotionless but his shoulders were drawn back. Dogmeat's ears flattened as he growled. Allen retreated to the rest of the mob gathered outside of the clinic. It was then Amata noticed Neal releasing a subtle grip on a concealed weapon, the handgun she had seen him use earlier with devastating results to armored raiders. She could only imagine what it would do to a soft unprotected vault dweller. At this thought she could feel fear prickle the hairs on her neck.

Amata looked at Neal expectantly hoping he would invite her to follow, but he didn't appear to notice and head into the clinic again, Dogmeat at his heels.

Thinking back on the notion, Amata realized it was stupid. When he turned back to face her, she tried to act as though she wasn't waiting on his invitation by watching the mob of vaulties as they whispered apprehensively.

"Amata? I'll need your help with her vault suit." Neal said. Amata was surprised at the discomfort in his voice. It was rare, given Neal was quite charismatic and persuasive if he needed to be. She followed him into the clinic and slid the door closed behind her.

Being in the clinic always made her nervous as her only reason for entering was the dreaded yearly medical exams. She suppressed a scoff as she closed the curtains, recalling they had never given her much privacy as her father insisted on being present for them. She never could tell if his mistrust was placed towards her or James. Amata couldn't decide which had been a more harrowing experience: a medical exam by her boyfriend's father with her own paranoid father present, or an examination from a Mr. Handy robot with metal pincers. She winced thinking about it.

Susie's stomach was wrapped with a makeshift tourniquet. Julian stood near the injured, gathering some surgical utensils. Amata noticed a man standing in the corner. He wore a worn black beater and jeans. His muscular arms were folded across his chest as he glanced up at her with the same terrifying look. His eyes were even the same color as Neal's. The look behind them was that of a caged animal… or a sociopath… She didn't know which. She noticed his face had the telltale scars of a harsh existence. Amata noticed a widow's peak on the man's chocolate hairline, he wore his hair in a way that vaguely reminded her of Neal's pompadour from their youth. If not for the worry lines and jagged scars that aged his face beyond its true age this man would be quite handsome.

Neal stood across from the man, sliding his armor off and tossing it into a corner. He quickly washed his hands in the sink and moved over towards Susie. He carried a needle with some sort of pain killer.

"Susie, I need you to relax, I can't get the needle in otherwise. The med-x is going to numb the pain." Neal said in a calming voice. Susie nodded weakly. Amata longed for him to do the same for her, her oozing side nagging her. But she could wait. Her wounds were no more than a few scrapes and a flesh wound.

Neal injected Susie with the med-x and then waited a bit for the drugs to kick in. He went over to his father's desk and pulled a pair of glasses from one of the drawers. He looked a bit more like his old self, only his bright blue eyes seemed older and wiser.

When Susie nodded, Neal proceeded with the surgery.

"We've gotta cut the bandage open, stay calm." Neal said.

Julian handed Neal a scissors. The scissors loomed a few inches above the tourniquet for a few moments as Neal squinted and blinked a few times. He looked up at the stranger and spoke. "I'm not farsighted anymore?"

The man only nodded, prompting Neal to remove the glasses.

Amata was puzzled, but she said nothing, watching Neal cut the tourniquet free. She had always joked with Neal in the past about how he was like an old man, in the way that he couldn't read very well up close.

He then walked over to the sink and washed his hands, pulling sterile wipes from the first aid kit on the wall.

"Amata," Neal said turning to her, "I need you to take her jumpsuit off and cover her."

Amata quickly sprung into action, biting back her exhaustion.

Neal and Julian lifted Susie slightly off of the operating table while Amata unzipped and began to undress Susie. Neal awkwardly moved his out of the way of the zipper and onto Susie's bare skin as Amata pulled the rest of the jumpsuit down. He looked away, his face purposely stone-like. Amata found it ironic. She had just witnessed Neal killing numerous people in an effortless fashion. He had experienced all of the atrocities of the wasteland: blood, guts, and gore. Yet he looked away from a half naked woman like he had a semblance of innocence left in him. She was too tired at this point to comprehend it.

Once Amata gave the okay, Neal went straight to work. He gently swabbed the laser burns and plucked the bullet out. Albeit, it was a bit more unorthodox than his father's doctoring, it worked. Then again, James' job never really entailed being a field surgeon.

Amata noticed Neal's 'friend' eyeing her warily. The man's face bore two brutal scars. One scar ran the length of his cheek, the scar tissue a pale white. The other was even more horrific, running across his left eye all the way to his chin, it was pink in color, a fresher wound. Amata felt uneasy as she noticed the man had not stopped glaring at her. Their eyes met, but his intense stare overpowered hers. Amata broke the eye contact and found Neal in the corner, near the desk. He stared at a picture frame. It was the only picture Neal ever had of himself, or his father for that matter. Susie lay sleeping peacefully.

"You should all get some rest." Neal said, his tone more of an order than a suggestion.

Amata nodded in exhaustion, "Sure, after I shower. You don't have to tell me twice." She hoped the humor would lighten the mood, but it didn't appear to have any effect. Neal only nodded, leaving an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

She glanced at the stranger, nearly forgetting he was there. He simply stared down at his Pip-Boy, scrolling through something. At a second glance, Amata noticed this man's Pip-Boy wasn't any Vault-tec issue she had ever seen. It appeared to be a more advanced model, with some sort of canvas flap covering the screen. She was too tired to really care about that at the moment and continued out the door, briefly observing the crowd of vault dwellers gathered around her father, who was for the moment organizing them. For once, her father was actually helping her.

* * *

Amata spent what seemed like forever in the shower. She favored one side, the water vapor stinging her wound. It wasn't as bad as she had originally thought, but a shallow, smooth groove was cut into her side.

Amata stood there letting the water wash away the toll of the last few weeks away. It seemed like no matter how long she stood there, the horrific scenes of desperation and death wouldn't leave her conscience. She couldn't help but feel guilty and complacent for ever complaining about the vault.

Hell, Neal saw this stuff every day for the past… four years? Had it really been that long? Thinking back, Amata understood the look in Neal's eye, or any waster's eye. They had seen things sheltered people like her couldn't imagine. It was reality. Somehow, Neal managed to do the impossible by bringing some semblance of humanity to the wastes. He was one of the only protectors the wastelanders had, he and the Brotherhood that is. Neal _had_ changed. He had to.

The old Neal Amata once cared about more than anyone wouldn't have lasted a week in the wastes, let alone four years. In seeing that Amata understood why it was Neal was so furious with her and why he treated her like a child. As much as she tried to fight it, Neal _hated _her. The thought pounded in her head.

To wastelanders, any remaining vault dwellers were avoided, because to raiders they were a most prized prey. Growing up in security weakened the instincts and senses. Neal actually had a chance when he left, this Amata had known. All of that practice with a BB gun, his sharp intellect, and quick wit, Neal could survive. But no one had any idea what he would become. The vault dwellers werechildren playing with fire in their notion to open the vault. They were playing with something far beyond their imagination. Amata had realized this the moment she saw Neal that last time. She had banished him because Neal was that reality. No one, not even Amata could handle that.

Amata twisted the spigot, ceasing the water.

_Clean water_, she thought, that Neal's family had spent and ultimately given their lives trying to give that to those less fortunate than the likes of Vault 101. Maybe that's why James was always so restless. Being from the outside and coming to a place like this must really ate at him. How could the dwellers be so inconsiderate? How could they not know?

Amata wiped herself down with a towel and combed back her now clean hair out of the way with her fingers. She looked at herself in the mirror. Amata knew she had the right intentions. She just needed to be made to understand. The Sentinel was gone, and very unlikely to help her. The more she thought about it, Amata got the feeling Sarah was headed into danger knowingly, and yet she wasn't afraid. Julian wasn't afraid either. He had that wastelander drive in him. An infallible will to survive, to do right. That was why he idolized Sarah and Neal so much. Amata knew she had to help… somehow. The future of everyone was at stake.

Amata searched the entire women's bathroom top to bottom but could not find her jumpsuit anywhere. Her undergarments were still in the same place as before, but her vault suit was missing. Keeping the towel firmly wrapped around her, Amata peered into the hallway, poking only her head out. Thankfully, there was no one in the hallway. She half expected Julian to pop out and scare her as he usually did during his little pranks. While she knew it was his way of showing an interest in her, Amata grew annoyed with how easy she was to ambush. Truth be told, she had enjoyed him keeping her on her toes. Perhaps more than an Overseer should.

Amata pressed down the hallway, her damp feed padding on the metal floor as she crept into her room. She didn't even care to shut her door before she tossed her towel onto a nearby lounge chair and collapsed into her bed, pulling the covers over her with a contented sigh. Amata fell quickly into the most appreciated sleep of her life.

* * *

Sarah knelt in the Citadel dirt. Home. She forced her body to remain upright as it shook with exhaustion. Her brothers and sisters lay wounded and bound, much like her. Sarah still couldn't believe the Citadel had fallen. She hadn't thought it possible. It had its vulnerable points in the Enclave conflict, but not enough for a total takeover. Now, here she was kneeling on the grounds she had sweat, bled, and trained upon since her earliest memories. Her worst nightmare had come true. Not the sacking of the Citadel, but the fall of the Brotherhood at the hands of their own traitorous brethren, called with good reason, the Outcasts.

Sarah searched for her father but he was nowhere on the grounds. She knew Burke would want him well protected and tucked away. If he were the classic melodramatic villain she thought him as, he would pull Elder Lyons from his hiding place at the most dramatic and climactic moment. It was up to her to figure out when that would be. She had her suspicions, but that wasn't enough when playing with her father's life.

She looked back over her shoulder finding a few members of the Pride behind her, looking just as shamed as she.

Neal had told her of Burke's former employer… Something-penny was his name? Had a particular dislike for ghouls. Right up until they stormed his luxe tower with Neal's help. Sarah wasn't too informed on the details, but she trusted Neal's judgment. It was time for a plan, but her creativity was tanked at the moment.

* * *

Neal sat at his father's desk, staring at the only photo he had ever taken with his dad. Deep down, he missed the innocence and ignorance he had once taken for granted in the vault. Sure, it hadn't been his favorite experience, but life was much less complicated than it was now. He glanced up at Julian who gingerly touched his bruised rib cage.

Neal glanced at John then back at Julian.

"Where is S-Sentinel Lyons?" Neal dodged using Sarah's first name.

"She and the mutants headed off. For the Citadel I presume." Julian said with a shrug.

"Of course she did." Neal said knowingly. He knew that Charon and Fawkes would depart from Sarah's company leaving her alone, save for Gallows. He knew this because he never brought the mutants into the Citadel to avoid confusion and unnerving the soldiers. They wouldn't help Sarah, not Charon anyways. It wasn't in the brainwashed ghoul's contract.

"Megaton was abandoned?" Neal inquired. He stared intently at seemingly nothing as he listened.

"Yes." Julian said grimly.

"The Sentinel is…," Julian eyed Neal carefully, "You two are…"

Neal appeared annoyed, "How does this help us find out what Burke wants?"

Before Julian could respond, John spoke up, "He knows about you and Sentinel Lyons. No doubt he will exploit that. You are what Burke wants. You represent the very thing he opposes. His 'business' cannot thrive with the likes of you here. You pay too much attention to detail."

Neal nodded slowly, gears turning in his head. He was beginning to connect the dots. He knew Burke would be able to operate easily under the Brotherhood's nose. They didn't have the manpower or the resources to stop such efforts.

"So if he gets rid of me, or at least disgraces me before the Brotherhood, gets them to want to oust me as well, he can do whatever he pleases." Neal said to John, who nodded.

"That's the gist of it, but I'm afraid there's more detail involved. I think it's better I show you, so you know I'm not just blowing smoke up your ass."

Neal nodded, "Okay."

"Show me to the Overseer's office and I can explain more there. Like any major problem, there's no cut and dry solution, unfortunately. I'm sure you're used that."

* * *

_Neal rolled over and locked his arm around the warm female form that lay next to him. He snuggled closer and softly kissed the jagged scar on Sarah's shoulder. It had been the result of a rusty combat knife. Luckily, Neal had been there to treat it. He dared not think of how close she had been to death. Sarah's body wasn't soft like Amata's had been, it was toned and firm. Sarah was a strong woman where Amata had been a weak girl. Straightforward and strong-willed, Sarah was an upgrade to Neal's being, not the dead weight Amata had been. It wasn't all Amata's fault, she had been He had eyes for no one except the Sentinel. Even if she was a hard ass sometimes, Neal smiled at that thought. _

_The truth was, he needed that 'little' nudge. He loved her. It wasn't about sex or favors. When it came down to it, Sarah was there. An unrelenting and indestructible sentinel. When all others had died or changed their ways, there was Sarah holding the line, hell or high-irradiated water. Neal buried his face in Sarah's golden hair and watched her eyes open sleepily, a smile creeping onto her face._

"_You're up early," Sarah said sleepily. She rolled over to face him._

"_Can't sleep with you snoring." Neal joked, to which he received a playful punch. "I don't snore," she defended. Her face became curious. "What's on your mind?" Neal avoided her light blue eyes at first, but found himself drawn to them. No matter how he resisted, Sarah knew. She knew him better than he wished. Neal wished Sarah would not share his burdens, but yet she did, in a way that only Sentinel Lyons could. Somehow, Sarah bore the weight of the entire Brotherhood, second only to her father. Her strength was far greater than Neal's, though she would never agree. Before Neal could respond, Sarah spoke. _

"_It's about Baltimore, isn't it?" Sarah said cautiously._

_Neal's beautiful eyes were cryptic to most, but Sarah could read them well._

"_It's the same hallucination every time I sleep. Call me paranoid, but I feel like its there for a reason." Neal's eyes were thoughtful as they looked back at Sarah._

"_Of course you're insecure sometimes. Everyone is at some point, Neal, even the Lone Wanderer. Don't worry so much." She brought one hand up and pulled him into a kiss, her fingers flipping his ear playfully as they parted. This earned a slight smile from her handsome lover. _

"_Just be careful out there. Things have been too quiet lately." He pulled her body against his, relishing in the sensation of quickened heartbeats. "Besides, who would I have to give meaning to my bizarre dreams." He said playfully, that attractive smirk that always got Sarah excited played on his features. _

"_I'll be fine, it's just a couple 'muties." She reassured. _

"_You sure you're not coming with?" Sarah tried for the third time in 48 hours. Neal shook his head._

"_I wish I could, but there are matters that I've neglected for too long." Neal said, his words purposely vague. Neal's eyes told her something else was afoot, but she couldn't figure out what. He glanced down at his pip-boy, the green light causing both Sarah and Neal to squint._

"_Are you still getting headaches?" Sarah asked._

"_Yeah, but I've been taking chems to help that. Must be a nagging concussion from a few weeks ago." Neal lied, knowing that wasn't the root of the problem. He hoped Sarah didn't notice._

"_Are you talking about your hand to hand session with Maxson?" Sarah said, almost laughing. She liked that Neal had taken the enamored Arthur Maxson under his wing and helped him gain some confidence. She suspected part of the connection was that Neal could relate well to being a legacy child. _

"_Yeah, he got me pretty good a few times." Neal stared at her seriously._

"_You're kidding, right?" Sarah said with a laugh._

"_Yes. I hit my head when I was moving my armor the other day. Too focused on the repairs, I guess." Neal lied again._

_Sarah's face didn't appear entirely convinced, whatever she thought she didn't say it. _

"_Smooth." She said sarcastically. She grabbed Neal's Pip-boy and checked the time._

"_Shit." Sarah cursed, "Duty calls." She said with lackluster._

_She kissed him quickly and moved towards her locker. He watched her naked silhouette move towards the dresser with a faint smile._

"_Don't be gone too long, Sentinel. That's an order." Neal said._

_Sarah smirked, "Last time I checked, I'm __your__ CO." They both laughed._

"_But I'll be back soon. Wouldn't want the swooning fans to ambush the Wasteland's most famous figure." She said sarcastically._

_Neal smiled, "I think it's the battle goddess, Sentinel Lyons, that I need to worry about."_

_Sarah only smiled at Neal. It was one of those smiles that he remembered very specifically, in the most excruciating detail. He knew she loved him. She just wasn't one for expressing her feelings verbally. That was part of what he liked about her. Before she left Neal stood too and began to dress, noticing the pleasure she took in it._

"_Tell Dusk I've been preparing my liver for another rematch. That is if she can handle it." Neal taunted._

_Sarah laughed, "I'm sure she'll be happy to hear that she gets to drink your ass under the table again."_

"_Oooh, such sharp words, Sentinel. You're damaging the morale of your unit by picking favorites." Neal said sarcastically._

"_And yet your complaints fall short as you lay comfortably in your CO's bed on nights at the base." Sarah said playfully, a sly grin on her face._

_Neal smiled, "Steel be with you, Sentinel."_

_Sarah smiled again, "And you, Wanderer."_

_And then she was gone._

* * *

Amata awoke to the stinging sensation in her side. Upon touching the afflicted region she could feel her shirt slightly dampened. She gingerly peeled the pussy wound from her shirt. Now she was worried. She tried to ignore it and sat up in her bed. She felt refreshed, but quickly remembered the great deal of unknowns that surrounded her. Amata had a lot of questions to face. What would she say? Would she lie? There were times when she contemplated taking the easy routes her father had. It was easier on her, but immoral. The high road, especially in politics, was an exhausting one. Amata had never considered herself a politician, but she later learned that a leader and politician were one and the same… at least in Vault 101 that is.

"Knock, knock," a familiar male voice said.

"Come in," Amata said softly.

Julian entered Amata's room with a first aid kit in his hand.

"It seems your injuries did not go unnoticed." Julian started.

"Neal?" Amata found herself saying.

"Yes. Even a bullet graze needs looking at. Infections are a serious problem in the wastes." Julian said sounding overly sure of himself.

"I'm fine, really." Amata said, raising a hand.

Julian reached out and gently grabbed her hand, giving it a light but suggestive squeeze and setting it onto her lap.

"Let me see." Julian pulled Amata's shirt up only as far as he needed too.

"Hm. Looks like you've got a minor infection, and might need a few stitches. Probably 3." Julian said, half talking to himself.

Julian set off to work while Amata's mind stewed with the Vault's current situation.

"What do I say to them, Julian?" Amata sighed.

He paused drawing the sedative from the bottle and looked up at her with inquisitive green eyes.

"That's a good question. I wouldn't tell them anything they don't need to know." He said, as if it were as simple as black and white.

Amata failed to stop her frustration from showing through.

"Like what?"

"Like the part where the wasteland's most famed and feared hero is practically insane, has paranoid delusions, and kills some innocent man that he thinks is his childhood tormentor. Or the part where he turns on and off like a light switch." Julian said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Does Neal even know what he did?" Amata asked, she figured if anyone knew, it would be Julian.

"I don't think so. Those bastards really fucked with his head."

Amata's eyes fell to the floor. It was then she noticed a shadow whisk her door.

She leaned forward to peer through it, despite Julian's protests.

By the time she could see outside, the shadow was gone.

Julian pulled her back, "That was John. Apparently he needs to look around the Overseer's Office."

"Who?"

"The guy from the clinic. Seems to know a lot about Burke and the Enclave. Not sure what his angle is though." Julian said, eyebrows crinkling in thought.

"You should go talk to Neal." Julian said as he finished tying the stitches.

"Why?"

"Because, I get the impression he and John think something big is gonna go down here, and it would be nice to be ont the up and up with him. He may need your help."

"I'm the last person he wants to talk to right now." Amata admitted sourly.

"Well, can't say that isn't true. But it's worth a shot. You _were_ friends once." Julian said with a smile, he sat next to her on her bed.

"We were more than that once too, you know." Amata confessed, a slight edge to her voice.

"I think just about everyone here knows that. But you've both moved on." Julian stated squeezing her hand, attempting to sway Amata's feelings of reticence.

"Oh, okay. But after I update everyone else." Amata said with a sigh. "You have to prove to him that you're capable and willing to help. Be privy to the whole wasteland and not just the vault." Julian said, giving her a shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze. Amata half expected him to kiss her as made eye contact with her, but he only smiled at her and nodded to the door.

No sooner had Amata entered the Atrium, a choir of questions rose up to greet her.

"Is she okay?" "Who is that man?" "Where is Neal Washington?"

Christine appeared to be holding down the fort in Amata's absence, she raised a hand to silence them. Amata nodded appreciatively to her and took a deep breath.

"Surgery was successful and Susie will make a full recovery." Amata said, an odd silence following.

"As for an explanation as to where we have been…" Amata paused.

"The party responsible for our capture is a military faction known as the Enclave." Amata looked to Christine for assistance, she knew input from someone without a bias towards Neal.

"As we all know the story of the Lone Wanderer and Brotherhood of Steel's war with this faction, they were presumed destroyed. It seems they have returned. While in their captivity," Christine glanced at Amata briefly, "We learned the identity of their leader. The Brotherhood of Steel and its allies freed us and returned us here."

Amata was surprised Christine had left out the many parts that all but faulted Neal entirely for their capture.

"What does this have to do with us?" John Kendall interjected, the mob of vault dwellers voiced their agreement and began to talk amongst themselves.

"This is the Wanderer's fault!" "Must we pay for _his_ choices!"

Before Amata could speak, a voice rose above the noise, commanding everyone's attention. All eyes and heads turned towards the back of the crowd.

"This isn't about the Wanderer! The Enclave has had its eye on Vault 101 long before the Wanderer and his father left." Alphonse Almodovar said, his voice carrying a grave warning. "They contacted me seeking to gain entry. To them we have resources, shelter, and a closed-door policy. A place where the Brotherhood couldn't find them."

Everyone, Amata included stared at the former Overseer in astonishment.

"By seeking Neal's help and changing the vault password, Amata inadvertently prevented the Enclave's attempts at entry." Alphonse admitted. "You saw them yourselves!"

"And now they're back." A voice from behind Amata said.

Amata turned to see two figures, one clad in black power armor and helmet, the other draped in a long black duster and helmet with glowing eyepieces. Both were armed to the teeth.

The individual in power armor took his helmet off with the sound of a pneumatic hiss. Much to everyone's surprise, the helmet revealed the Lone Wanderer.

"Whether you like it or not vault dwellers, the war is literally at your doorstep." Neal's voice was austere. He looked at Alphonse emotionlessly and then his attention turned to Amata. His voice continued in that 'leader-of-man-and-military tone'.

"What's it going to be, Overseer?" he asked. The slight, mocking undertone in Neal's voice was well hidden.

Amata resisted the urge to look to her father for direction.

"I'm no soldier! You're the 'legendary' tactician. What do _you_ suggest?" Amata said, her tone more accusatory than she intended. She could see her powerful former boyfriend's shoulders tighten as they did earlier. She sighed and took great care to not sound desperate, "Please."

"We let them in." Neal said simply. Amata could see him resist the urge to grin at the shocked murmurs and gasps.

Amata nodded slowly, "Please tell me there's more to it than that."

Neal nodded, "I'll need to borrow Christine. For now, make sure your people are setting up barricades and moving essentials to your room and the Overseer's office. Julian, move Susie there too and grab a weapon. That's where you'll be bunkered."

Amata bit her lip in frustration.

"Why my room?" Amata protested.

"No windows or structural weaknesses, and its out of the way." Neal explained.

There was nothing that pissed her off more than being treated like a child. Neal thinking of her as incompetent wasn't unwarranted, but he hadn't even given her a chance. Though the wasteland may think of their greatest hero as a born battle master and tactician, Amata knew better. If she knew anything about him at all, Neal wasn't one to ask for help.

Amata felt Christine's palm on her shoulder, "Do as he says. He'll come around." She whispered to the Overseer.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please read & review. Tell me what you would like to see in the next chapter, I like to hear your opinions and suggestions. Also, I hope things are starting to make more sense and that Burke's plot is starting to make sense... At least a little bit. There's still plenty more twists and surprises (I hope they're surprises, anyways). See you soon and steel be with you!


	12. Chapter 12: Imposters

**Hello everyone. I realize I've been away for awhile, playing Bioshock Infinite and Fallout New Vegas (Ultimate Edition). But I bring good news. For those of you that are interested, I went back and revised the first four chapters a bit. I also added a subplot or should I say… I made a subplot more concrete by making it central to a character I believe is important to both Neal and Sarah. Star Paladin Cross, though I haven't yet decided if she will have a POV or not. Also, I have updated my profile a bit. At the end here I will talk a little about my opinions on Bioshock Infinite. Along with a few other announcements.**

* * *

"I'm not a soldier. I don't follow a code like you." Sarah recalled Neal saying to her once. She could never tell how he felt about that statement. She knew part of him wished to belong somewhere, but it seemed he believed that the things he did, some that haunted him, were necessary. Sarah used to envy the red tape having a code presented, but after hearing the Wanderer's harrowing tales from his mouth, not Three Dog's, she almost appreciated not having the responsibility. Still, it seemed every legitimate force in the Capital wasteland owed the Lone Wanderer a favor.

Sarah knew he hadn't always been the man she knew. The wastes had broken him. He had succumbed to the evil that thrived in the wastes. Somewhere along the way he had seen the error of his ways and slowly learned of his true purpose. At least that's how he put it. The poetic nature of the description was perhaps to spare going into the details, or maybe to spare himself the memories. Though she often believed that people change given their environs. She feared that Neal's current mental state left him vulnerable or unstable.

"When it comes to choosing who to save and who to leave behind I'm making the choice based on many factors, not simply rank and file. When I choose who to kill and who to let go, the same applies. You know who I'd choose, Sarah. That's my problem with the Brotherhood. The protocol allows the higher ups to sleep at night because they don't feel the responsibility."

Now she knew why she kept having this dream. That had been a rather tense point in their relationship. It wasn't that he was wrong. Sarah knew what he said made sense. But she believed that her superiors, though few, took responsibility for their actions and never would toss lives away needlessly. Whatever was happening, Sarah somehow knew it was all up to Neal. There was something not quite right about this whole situation.

* * *

Neal moved quickly, pulling his sidearm from his hip and aiming it at John's head, "How do I know I can trust you?"

John made no attempts to disarm Neal, perhaps out of sheer pride. "Because you have no other choice. I'm the only one who knows what's going on here. You're not going to like it, but it's what you have to do."

Neal fired a bullet straight into John's forehead. He had to be sure John was as he claimed.

He watched as John flinched slightly in recoil from the .45 round, the sound was deafening. The skin on John's forehead peeled back, revealing the familiar shine of Adamantium. John only glared at Neal.

"Okay," Neal said, holstering his pistol, the clinking of the expelled .45 casing could still be heard.

"I had to be sure." Neal said defensively.

John nodded, "Neither of us would have gotten anywhere if we trusted everyone we met."

Neal gave him a wary look.

"You and I are more alike than our upgrades. We're the dying breed that prospers in hellish places such as this. We're war heroes, not damn politicians." John said, his brows crinkling. Neal nodded very slowly, as if he needed more convincing.

"Does the name the Courier sound ring a bell?" John asked.

"Vaguely." Neal said.

John smirked.

Neal caught on. "So, Courier, what brings you to my turf."

The Courier pulled a retractable cord from his pip-boy and plugged it into the terminal. He pushed a few buttons and scrolled around the terminals settings until the vault's entire camera security system was up on the series of monitors on the wall. He unplugged the pip-boy and scanned over the cameras. Neal saw that John had tapped into the camera feed and was viewing it live on his pip-boy. Neal opted to do the same. Only he also made a copy of all of the logs and saved files on his pip-boy like he the last time he was in the Overseer's office. Now that he thought of it. That had been nearly four years ago.

Finally the Courier answered him, "I'd be lying if I said I was here to help. At first, I was interested in that simulation for the battle of Anchorage, in Fort Independence. Then once I figured out what Burke was up to, and who his target was," John said with a nod at Neal. "I decided I could take two birds with one stone."

Neal thought about asking him exactly what he meant, but knew it wasn't a top priority at the moment. He let his tactical expertise do the thinking. He assumed it was a 'favor for a favor' sort of thing.

"Is your helmet equipped with night vision?" the Lone Wanderer asked the Courier.

The Courier nodded, glancing down at his pip-boy, "That will be our advantage, but we're going to need someone to stay here and man the controls. You're going to want your heavy armor in here. Lucky for you, the Sentinel pointed me towards your cache."

The Wanderer's dry smile was one of an experienced killer and tactician.

"We need to move everyone to a secure area first. Barricade it off. We can communicate with the Overseer's office with the mics that are set up around the vault. I always knew that bastard was listening in." Neal said, referring to the infamous former Overseer.

The Courier nodded, cupping his chin in thumb and forefinger.

"What about the injured?"  
"Her too. That clinic isn't secure. Too many windows." The Wanderer assessed.

"Let's set up some barricades. Funnel them into a single hallway. I downloaded the schematics of the vault. The lights, fire sprinklers, and locks are all marked on your pip-boy's local map." The Courier said.

"How about the atrium? You can fire from the walkway overhead and I can fire from the doorway on their right side. If they push me back you can be on their flank or be waiting further back." The Wanderer suggested.

The Courier grunted in affirmation.

"Let's get to it."

Neal could see how terrified the vault dwellers were as they built barricades. Their hands shook and their eyes were alight with fear. As he thought back, Neal knew what that felt like, though it had been ages. Truth be told, he wasn't afraid to die any longer. He couldn't decide if that was a testament to his selflessness and bravery or simply his pride. Looking at how much the terrified vault dwellers valued their lives, Neal realized how much he had changed. He suspected part of the reason for allowing Julian Torres the former caravaneer, into the vault was for his survival knowledge and weaponry skills. Amata must have realized that Neal wasn't going to come back at her every beck and call like before. Julian was the vault's new piss on. Poor guy. If the man could grow a backbone, he could really help Amata with her shortcomings as a leader... and did she ever need it.

* * *

Amata stood behind the barricade. She was to be the last one in the room. The hallway that connected her room and the Overseer's office was barricaded at the end.

"Julian, I need you to be ready to hit the lights and the alarms and sprinklers if need be. Once the lights go out, they stay out until the threat is eliminated. If someone gets to close to the barricades hit the alarms and we'll double back to you," Neal said, his voice firm and concise.

He turned to Amata, "If you hear the alarms, the security team should brace for an attack. Spread everyone out around the room, make them difficult targets. If everyone clusters it'll be a massacre." Amata blinked incredulously at the bluntness of Neal's orders, she wiped her forehead out of stress. She could barely believe how much these last few weeks have unfolded. The one place she thought safe was about to become a war zone.

Alphonse stepped between his daughter and her 'geek-turned –super-soldier' ex-boyfriend.

"Neal, I'll man the controls. I've done it for years, I'll get things done quicker." Alphonse said.

Neal turned his head and stared at the former Overseer. His bright blue eyes intent on gauging the motives of the morally corrupt man. Much to Neal's surprise he could see genuinely good intentions in the crooked man. It became apparent that Alphonse was aware of Amata's taking to the fresh-faced, young Mr. Torres. For the first time, Neal saw a father in Alphonse. For so many years, Neal had protected Amata from her father's wrath. In spite of everything she had done to him, Neal knew he still cared for her. Though he still couldn't forgive her, he couldn't just let her die. He looked at Amata. She looked back at him and for a brief moment, she seemed to ask for his help with that look.

He had taken the rap for her decisions in the past and this seemed no different. It irritated him slightly, but at the same rate he understood. He was more practiced in this unfortunate decision-making.

"Alright, if you insist. This job is risky and there are lives at stake, I'm sure you're aware of that." Neal said firmly.

Amata spoke up, "No! I am the Overseer and I will man the controls. I know them just as well as my dad!"

All three men showed disproval, some more vehement than others.

Alphonse was the first to speak up, "Lives are at stake, Amata! You are their leader! You are supposed to be with them!"

"I know, Dad! It's my job to protect them! _My_ job to do _whatever_ it takes to keep them from harm!" Her voice was more determined than any had ever heard it.

"Neal! Tell her she can't do this!" Alphonse pleaded.

"It's her choice, Alphonse." Neal said, though he wished he could stop her.

Alphonse and Amata were both shocked.

"You cannot be serious! It was you who cornered me and threatened that if I ever laid a hand on Amata again I would pay like the guards had! And to this day, I have not! Now you'll simply let her risk her life?" Alphonse shouted, clearly outraged.

Amata's confused gaze went from her father to Neal. She had not known about this heated exchange. It made her feel all the guiltier.

Neal's face was the blank expression it always was when he wanted to mask his emotions.

"She's a grown woman, she can handle herself. She can lead. She will go nowhere if she isn't allowed to take risks. If it makes you feel better, you may accompany her." Neal said.

Amata instantly began to shake her head and step forward.

Neal reached forward and stopped her short.

"Those are my terms." Neal said firmly.

Neal turned to Amata whose demeanor was growing all the more nervous. He pulled a gun from his side pouch, Blackhawk, the trusty .45 caliber revolver. He realized the irony of the situation as the barrel faced him once more, this time, physically at Amata's hand.

"Take this, it's got serious kick so shoot with both hands and grip it tight. Do _not _hesitate to use it." His eyes were glass when they made eye contact, beautiful yet sorrowful.

It had been her that had forced the barrel to his chin, metaphorically. That day in Moriarty's had been the lowest point in his life. His father was gone and now Amata had betrayed him. Nova had talked him down somehow. She was one of the few people he could really talk to . Much to his shame, Sarah had found him a few days later. After he hadn't turned up at the Citadel on schedule, she had felt it her duty to investigate. He hadn't known it then, but it was her feelings for him that urged her to as well. He would never know how she felt until he almost died in the Jefferson Memorial. He realized how much he missed her just then, and how much was at stake.

Amata shakily took the gun, her eyes never leaving Neal's. Here he was protecting her after everything that he been through because of her. He had been shot, stabbed, nearly blown up, tortured, kidnapped, starved, and malnourished in his three years in the wastes, and he still returned. She had even betrayed him. A loud beep filled the intercom and alerted on everyone's pip-boys. Neal reached for his helmet, his armor made the sound of a pneumatic hiss.

Amata resisted the strong urge to touch him, "Be safe." She said. He nodded, just before his helmet clicked onto neck portion of the armor. It made a pressuring noise then, returned to silence.

Amata turned, following the now armored Julian towards the nearly finished barricade. She would be holding down the fort, quite literally.

The lights went out systematically, the haunting shuttering sound made Neal's heart beat with adrenaline right along with them. When he opened his eyes, he was in the darkness, everything before him was bathed in varying shades of green. In his hands he carried a Xuanlong assault rifle, his favorite weapon for direct combat. Secured at his waist was a sawed off shotgun. The tri-beam laser rifle remained on his back, should he need it, the clips he installed on the back would make for an easy swap of his two rifles. He looked over the pulse mines he had set up around all entrances to the atrium that came from the vault cog. He glanced up at the atrium gangway above him in which John had set up a sandbag nest to draw fire while he set up from the side opposite of Neal, which from the Outcast's point of view was to the left.

Neal glanced down at his belt where two flash-bangs hung. One might say he was over prepared, but he preferred it this way, besides, he knew taking the Outcasts lightly was a mistake he wasn't about to make again.

Amata watched the screens anxiously, her father watching the atrium from the lone circular window. She could see John setting up near the window. She could see the experience in his strategy. Amata recalled Sarah mentioning a weakness in the back of virtually any power armor set. There was a gap just beneath the shoulder pads as well as the back of the thigh. She knew what this strategy meant for Neal, he would have to face the brunt of the attack. Which if Amata recalled, Neal loved a challenge. Though a challenge for him was for more than any Amata had faced.

Amata could hear her father flick the lights off. The ominous sound pricked at her adrenaline reserves. This was it.

"It's all about him, you know." Amata said to her father.

"Neal?" Alphonse clarified, "Yes, we're all aware of that. I've never seen an enemy like this before. I wonder if he's finally outdone himself."

Amata was under a different impression. "I get the feeling he knew something like this was coming. He mentioned a void of power. Someone was bound to fill it."

Alphonse stared at the vault's lone external camera. There was no sign of the enemy just yet.

"I wonder how he does it. He's just like his father, making a living out of the impossible. Hell, making a legend." Alphonse said, surprised with his own admission.

Amata said nothing only staring into the darkness in thought. Even her father could find no fault in the Lone Wanderer persona.

"They're here." Alphonse said grimly. A beeping noise sounded in the Overseer's office, it signaled that the vault cog had opened. Amata glanced at the screen over her shoulder. Her eyes widened at the number of so called 'Outcast' soldiers that breached the atrium. Amats turned her attention back to the atrium. For a few seconds there was silence. Then the rumble of explosions filled the vault. The brief flashes of light that accompanied the mine pulses showed the enemy sprinting for cover. Amata couldn't see much else, she could feel her heartbeat staccato as she listened over her anxious breathing for any sign. Her hands clutching the pistol, never daring to go near the safety for an errant twitch could prove fatal.

* * *

Neal could see the Outcasts scatter into two separate squads. Two of them appeared to be wounded. The first group went to the left, upon which they were greeted by the crack of John's scoped hunting rifle. Neal had noticed that the hunting rifle had slight differences when compared with the rifles he had discovered around the East coast. He assumed this was because they had a different manufacturer... a better one at that.

Neal could hear the mayhem ensuing around the corner. From the sounds of things, John was concentrating his fire to the side of the atrium opposite Neal. They appeared to be taking the bait and firing at the false sniper's nest.

As he peered around the corner again, Neal could see the squad that had taken cover on his side of the atrium was preparing to make a push further into the vault, no doubt they would be heading right for him. Neal took a few steps back and pressed his right shoulder into the steel wall, he switched to a lefty hold and pulled the flashbang from his belt with his right hand.

As the clunk of metal boots came around the corner, the Wanderer pulled the pin with his thumb and rolled the flashbang across the metal floor. _One. _He backed himself as far into the alcove in the wall as he could and screwed his eyes shut. _Two. _The explosion sounded. The explosion sounded. _Three._ Neal let out the breath he held and fired on the oncoming Outcast soldiers. One soldier fell, a trio burst piercing the weak point at the thigh. He wasn't dead, but he would be soon without any medical attention.

There were four more headed his way, and now aware of his presence. Neal fired, exploiting a weakness in the shoulder joint, despite the distraction of laser burns singeing marks into his armor. His left arm was getting hot. Neal let the Xuanlong Assault rifle drop to his chest, secured to his body by a shoulder strap. He reached to his back, pulling the tri-beam laser from his back with his right arm. He turned and took off in a dead sprint, heading deeper into the vault and down the stairs. He fired the two handed weapon with only one hand, diminishing his accuracy slightly, but he was well practiced in the run-and-gun style. One of his shots proved effective, burning straight through the eyepieces of the Outcast helmet. His success was reported by the sound of yet another heavy metallic thud. The Wanderer's eyes were darting all around, searching for a place to take cover or a strategic exploit. He decided the serving bar of the diner would be decent place to take cover. He slid across the bar table baseball style and landed surprisingly softly, given his heavy metallic armor. He glanced down at his pip-boy. _Come on, Courier._ He looked back over the bar tabled and fired with one arm again, hoping to pin the Outcasts down.

Amata watched as John swung the hunting rifle on its strap to a mobile position on his back, strapped across his chest was some sort of assault rifle, a carbine, she recalled Neal saying. In what she could make out through the brief flashes of light, Amata had seen at least two of the 'Outcasts' fall. Whether they were dead or wounded was yet to be determined.

A gasp escaped her lips as Amata slid out of view, the flash of John's assault rifle briefly illuminating the area. Had the Outcasts seen her, Amata feared the consequences that would surely follow. She continued to nervously grip the high-powered pistol. She could hear her father's breathing. He had possessed the presence of mind to put the monitors on sleep mode until the firefight moved past. Amata couldn't see anything but the clunk of metal boots began to faint. John had obviously lured them away.

Amata could hear the whirr of the monitors coming back to life. When she finally found a screen with action, her heart seemed to freeze. Neal was pinned down the diner, he was outnumbered three to one. His back was right up against the serving table. He continued to fire potshots over the counter to keep the enemy from getting too close.

Neal closed his eyes. He knew he was trapped, but this wasn't his first rodeo. The adrenaline coursing through his veins allowed time slow, his perception heightening. It was now when he would call upon a friend he liked to call the mysterious stranger… his sharp instincts. This mysterious stranger was a well kept secret to his success. The way they got the nickname was how the time he spent in this 'mode' felt like an out of body experience. It was as though some unseen force was pulling the strings and telling his body what to do. _One Outcast on the other side of the table. Approximately, five feet away… Most imminent threat. Two more enemies one using a sidearm, the other a rifle ten and fifteen feet away, respectively. Sidearm enemy leaves thigh weak point unprotected. Exploit. Rifle enemy hides behind a booth. Surprise._

Neal opened his eyes. He knew exactly what to do.

Quickly, he popped up, timing perfectly with his encroaching enemy. He reached out and with one swift motion and the assistance of his power armor, lifted the Outcast up and over the table and smashed him to the ground. A simple squeeze of the double barreled sawed off shotgun at his thigh sent the Outcast to the void. Laser bursts hissed over the top of the bar where the Wanderer had just been seconds ago.

_Two left. _ Neal combat rolled into the opening on the bar table, he remained crouched as he fired two precise three shot bursts into both of the thighs of the pistol toting Outcast, his screams affirming the Wanderer's lethal precision.

_One._ Even with his night vision eyeplates he could see the spurts of blood and the writhing of his target. Neal remained in a crouch as he sprinted to the cover of the booth. His thighs were used to this crouch-sprint of sorts. It proved quite useful in moving around unseen in open combat and also making him a harder target to hit. Neal dove, sliding on his right side to the open side of the booth in which his final target lay in cover. The Wanderer had timed so just as his enemy popped out of cover to fire on him, he would be right in the perfect spot. Neal fired a three shot burst into the weak point within the power armor's armpit. This killed the final man instantly. He groaned a bit, but this death was much quicker.

* * *

Amata and her father sat with their backs to wall, Amata clutching the pistol shakily. They could hear solitary footsteps. Whoever it was, they weren't trying to be discreet. Amata looked at her father, who placed a hand on her shoulder and put a finger to his lips. He rose to a bent-kneed stance, obviously trying to be quiet as he moved towards the door. Slowly, Alphonse moved from the corner, peering around the doorway into the darkness.

A scuffle could be heard. Amata's heart threatened to flop from her chest as she saw an armored man, much larger than her father emerge through the doorway. A blade was pressed against Alphonse's throat. A man in armor similar to Neal's forced Alphonse forward.

"Where is the Lone Wanderer?" A clear yet terrifyingly dark voice inquired.

"I-I don't know. He's here somewhere." Amata said, her gun trained on the finding her voice. She was doing her best not to appear as scared or untrained as she was.

The armored man forced Alphonse to his knees with a kick to the back of the knee. Alphonse yelped in response as he thudded to the ground. He looked up at his daughter as the man spoke.

"I will not ask again. Where is he? You and your people do not need to come to harm." The man's voice was chilling. He reached down the an elongated blade, a machete if Amata recalled correctly, and placed it against the back of Alphonse's neck.

"Here," Neal said, kicking the intruder's blade from his hands. He swung a strong right hook at the man's neck, aided by his power armor. The man managed to duck it and send a return jab. Neal shook it off and continued to box with the man. The man reached out with a palm and knocked Neal back. He then reached forward, dodging Neal's punches easily and hit the power module on the Wanderer's armor. Neal fell to the ground with a loud metallic clunk his armor a deadweight as it pinned him down. The man again held his machete at Alphonse's throat.

"Your family is no more, stretched thin by those who do not deserve it. Your friends cast you out, only to call you back for their own selfish needs. You call nowhere home and have no one to fall back upon should the worst come to pass. You are great Wanderer but you could be legendary." The man said, his voice surprisingly sincere.

Neal looked up at the man, his voice was breathy from straining against his armor, which now served as a prison. "You're not an Outcast are you? What do you want from me?"

"I want you, Wanderer. I represent an opportunity that is in your best interest. It would be prudent of you to accept sooner rather than later." The man said. Both Amata and Neal found the eloquent manner in which the man spoke unsettling.

"I don't even know who the hell you are. Why would I join you?" Neal hissed. His fiery blue eyes turning to ice.

The man nodded slightly, "You will be made to realize just how unappreciated you are, Wanderer. The teachings begin now." With his gloomy words, the phony Outcast drug his blade forcefully across Alphonse's throat. The sound of gasping could be heard followed by Amata's heart-wrenching screams.

"I am not your enemy," the man whispered to Neal as he casually made his way from the room.

Neal grunted and groaned, his face beet red as he strained against his armor. He looked over at Amata who was covered with blood, trying to stop the bleeding at her father's throat. Neal knew there wasn't much time left, so he remained respectfully silent, watching what he knew would be the final exchange between the man he once hated more than any and his daughter whom Neal had once loved.

Neal flinched slightly at the sound of his power armor rebooting. He glanced over his shoulder to see John crouching near him. Part of Neal wondered where his mysterious benefactor had been throughout the exchange but he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Neal stood and moved over towards a sobbing Amata. He looked down at Alphonse's throat. It was slit pretty deep and blood was pouring from all of the major arteries. He didn't have long.

Amata looked up at Neal desperately, "Neal, do something! Please!" Neal only shook his head and looked at Alphonse, hoping the dying man could get his last words out.

Amata solemnly looked at her father, Neal could tell she was devastated. He knew exactly what a moment like this felt like, it wasn't something one could easily forget. Neal remained silent as he watched the two exchange silent goodbyes. Alphonse could barely manage to smile with his severed neck muscles. Neal couldn't help but feel pitiful for the Almodovars. Neal was tempted to place a comforting hand on Amata but he decided against it. He stood and moved over towards John. He made a conscious effort to ignore Amata's sobs, when her cries grew louder Neal knew that the former Overseer that had once tortured him was no more. Neal did not respect Alphonse nor did he mourn his passing. His attempts at helping were too little, too late. Neal also bore in mind the fact that Amata would be upset, but if she was to become the leader she was meant to be, she had to learn to heal wounds like this on her own.

"We need to make for Fort Independence. That man was not an Outcast, nor were the rest of them. I have a gut feeling that we won't find any Outcasts at Fort Independence either." Neal surmised.

"You think they're wiped out?" John asked.

Neal gave him a hard glance, "Maybe."

He went over to Amata's room door and opened it. The collective gasps and wimpers of the hiding vaulties almost made him laugh. He contained it to a dark internal laugh, looking for something to distract him from the scene behind him. Before Julian could run to Amata's side, Neal caught his shoulder.

"Let her be for now," Neal advised.

Julian looked as though he was about to protest, but Neal didn't allow him to speak.

He knew very well that Julian had the potential to be a real force in the wastes with the right prodding. He also could prove a positive influence for Amata in the future.

"I have a job for you," the Lone Wanderer said.

* * *

**So, the announcement I mentioned early was a poll. I have updated my site and added a poll for you to help shape how the rest of the story goes. You guys are the reason why I continue to write and I greatly appreciate all of your support and feedback. While we're on the topic, I would greatly appreciate it if you would write a review to help fine tune my chapters in the future. Now, the poll is in regards to characters and who you want to see more of. If you don't see the character there feel free to PM or write a review. I've been playing Fallout: New Vegas a bit more to get a feel of the Courier as well as the characters involved there. I've also been scoping it for future fics... though I won't go into any more detail on that so as not to distract you.**

**So, my experience with Bioshock Infinite was an overall positive one. Don't worry, this is spoiler free. The game was loads of fun, albeit the maps were a little confusing if you wanted to go back and do side quests. I think that's my only complaint with the gameplay. I really bought into the friendship between Elizabeth and Booker. I had a hard time telling how much there was in age difference and there were times I wavered back and forth between thinking they were romantically interested in one another or just friends. Given the circumstances, I opted for a friendship. I highly recommend the game. The rails were a blast to swing around on! The story is good but at the end I was really confused. In fact, I'm still thinking about it and what it really means. I guess that means the writers did their jobs. Overall, I give it an 8.5 out of 10.**


	13. Chapter 13: I Did What?

**I think it's time I paid a certain individual his dues. John, the Courier, is not my own character. Months ago a fellow writer by the name of Ben Webster PM'ed me about the possibility of incorporating his Courier into the story. I have to admit that at first I was skeptical, but then as I thought about it, I realized that it was, in fact, an excellent idea. If I played my cards right, John could be an interesting and powerful character to add to the story. While he's been secretive lately, we'll start to learn more about him and why the hell he's even here in the first place. So thank you Ben for allowing me to use your character to improve this fic!**

Sarah knew something was off. Her gut told her so. She noticed the whispers and odd mannerisms of her captors. The Outcasts didn't seem interested in the tech, which she thought strange when considering it was the reason for the schism between the two factions. Was this all an act? Sarah couldn't tell. Taking things as they were, her father was MIA and the rest of the Brotherhood was in a similar situation as she, disarmed and carefully watched. If only she could slip from the Citadel, she guaranteed that she would find Fort Independence completely abandoned. The amount of manpower the Outcasts were putting into this would require all of their forces to be present if not more.

Sarah decided she was better off to test this theory than to sit around and shoot the Outcasts brooding glares. She could see many familiar faces: Dusk, Colvin, Glade, Kodiak, Vargas, Squire Maxson, Scribe Bowditch, as well as many others. But Gallows was missing as was her father and Rothchild. Sarah wasn't exactly surprised though. Gallows was a sneaky bastard and her father was the leader here, he was probably wherever this 'Burke' was. It sparked an idea.

Sarah eyed the Outcasts, trying to discern which one appeared to be in charge. She noticed the occasional glances that the power armored Outcasts cast in the direction of one in particular. Sarah found it odd they never removed their helmets. Being in power armor was stuffy and claustrophobic, especially with a helmet on. Sarah could never bring herself to wear one. No matter what protection it presented her, a helmet made her peripherals nearly nonexistent.

"Hey!" Sarah called to whom she presumed to be the commanding officer.

She noticed the terse glances she received from both her own and the enemy. "What the hell are you doing, Lyons?" Dusk said warily, doing her best to keep her voice down.

Sarah paid her no mind.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

The superior officer finally came over to her. He didn't say anything, only staring at Sarah through his eye-plates.

"Where's the Elder?" Sarah demanded.

The man said nothing only staring at her more, adding to Sarah's irritation.

"Are you deaf? I asked you a question!" Sarah knew this would only earn her a slug in the face, but at this point she didn't care. She was testing her enemy very carefully.

Much as she thought the officer cocked his fist back, loading a powerful punch, but before he could a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let the Sentinel see her father, it's about that time anyways." Burke said, his voice as devilish as ever.

Sarah looked at the slimy 'businessman' with narrowed eyes. As much as she hated the bastard, she couldn't shake the feeling of suspicion in gut. He was up to something, obviously, and it bothered Sarah that she couldn't figure out what. She was more inclined to pointing and shooting the bad guys, not figuring out what made them tick. That was more of Neal's strong suit.

As she rose to stand near Burke, she reminded herself not to do anything rash. The whole thing could go sideways if she let her temper get the better of her.

Sarah carefully observed the Outcast officer as he unlocked her cuffs. She could hear him say something under his breath but she couldn't make it out. She assumed it was an insult aimed at her.

Sarah stood, looking around at the others as they watched her. In a more literal sense than ever before, Sarah could see them all looking to her. Everyone was depending on her to fix this. Part her wondered what exactly she was trying to fix. It made her feel the pressure all the more but also made her resolve all the more steadfast.

Sarah felt naked being out of her power armor. She wore only her grey fatigues, meaning a bullet would most likely kill her if she tried to break loose and hoof it.

Sarah followed Burke silently into the A-Ring. She held her breath as they turned right and headed for the solar. It was strange looking at the inside of the Citadel under the control of someone else. It seemed like yesterday when it was the safest place she knew. Sarah entered the solar behind Burke, disdainfully noting his ridiculous outfit.

Sarah wasn't as surprised as she should have been at her father's unharmed state. She knew the Outcasts hated the Lyons name for what they saw as a betrayal of the Brotherhood's ideals. This made it somewhat surprising that he wasn't swiss cheese by now. But Sarah knew that if Burke was involved, there had to be some sort of negotiation.

"So let me get this straight," Julian said, rubbing his temples.

"We know for sure that the people behind this aren't the Enclave?"

Julian looked to the two legendary men that stood before him for affirmation. Neal and John nodded in unison.

"But we don't know who is?"

Neal nodded, "We have some idea. Checking out Fort Independence will tell me whether or not my hunch is correct."

Julian nodded thoughtfully, "What about Amata?"

Julian couldn't tell if Neal's expression was sympathetic or apathetic as his eyes fell to the floor. He at least had helped Julian clean up the mess and take care Overseer's corpse, sparing Amata the additional pain.

"She'll come around."

Julian's dark eyebrows squinted in confusion, but after awhile he nodded, trusting the Wanderer's judgment.

"Just make sure you're ready to go in a few hours," Neal said.

Julian nodded. He then turned and went to go find Amata.

"The Legion are against tech," John recalled.

Neal shrugged, "I've never ran into them in my travels. I've been as far as Pittsburg."

"They have a detachment that operates in the Midwest. Even so, that's a long way from here. Vertibirds would be the only viable way of getting here from there or the Mojave for that matter."

"Which they wouldn't do," Neal finished. He read John's face a moment.

"There's more to this, you wouldn't come all the way out here unless it was absolutely necessary. You know what's going on, don't you?"

John didn't flinch, but he took a moment, no doubt choosing his words carefully.

"Well," John said, his eyes remaining as unreadable as ever. "Can you definitively say you've never been farther west than Pittsburg?"

Neal was confused, he knew exactly who he had and had not met.

"Yes. I am sure," Neal said confidently.

John expression showed he expected this response. He glanced around the atrium presumably looking for anyone who could possibly be within earshot.

"Follow me," the Courier said. The Wanderer obliged, though nervous about what the Courier had to tell him.

When they came to the diner, John began to play with his pip-boy. Neal took the opportunity to inspect the signs of battle. Scorch marks lined the walls and the smell of cleaner masked what once was the smell of death and gore.

John unbuttoned his duster with a sigh, obviously growing overheated and sweaty from his heavy armor. He set his helmet on a booth table and scooted to the furthest corner and stretched out his legs on the long booth seat. A knife was strapped on his thigh as well as a few extended mags.

Neal pulled up a chair and sat on it so that his arms rested on the backrest. He buried his chin the gap between his forearms in attempt to relax. There was so much going on in his head that he couldn't think straight.

"I believe you, Neal. I really do. There's just one problem."

Neal felt his gut drop, though his features didn't betray his blank expression.

John down extended his arm as though looking at watch, his eyes going down to his pip-boy. He pressed a button and a recording crackled to life.

Burke's voice could be heard.

"Just when I thought I'd seen the last of you, Wanderer."

Neal couldn't stop himself from looking completely shocked he didn't say anything though, allowing the recording to continue.

"Well, it seems I'm in need of your services," A voice strikingly resembling Neal's came over the recording, sounding especially cavalier.

"Believe me, if there were anyone else who could pull this off, I would be there," Neal's voice said coldly.

Burke laughed darkly, "Naturally."

"You know of the Brotherhoood Outcasts, correct?"

Burke must have affirmed this for Neal's voice continued.

"They have something quite valuable. Something the real Brotherhood needs."

"Fort Independence?" Burke tried.

"Yes and no. I'm more so of something within it."

Burke as astute as ever seemed to catch on, "I assume you want them gone? And you don't want yourself or the Lyons' implicated."

"Exactly."

"That's all and fair, Wanderer. Except for the fact that you and I have something of a history. What's to prove that this isn't a ploy to kill me?"

"You'd be dead already." The Wanderer's voice said with cold confidence.

"True, but even still, I need you to do something for me first. If I'm to take full blame for this, I'll need a favor." Burke said, his voice irritatingly smooth as ever.

"I have more than enough caps to fund whatever you need."

"I have no doubt. It's just I'll need some manpower. If you were to say, deliver a bounty alive to an 'interested party', they'd be more than happy to provide some muscle."

"Alright, I'll bite. Who?"

"Her name is Rose of Sharon Cassidy, and she's very well protected. This is going to be in no way simple." Burke warned. "The particulars are here," the sound of a piece of paper sliding on a wooden table could be heard.

"It never is." The Wanderer responded.

The pip-boy clicked, signaling the recording was over.

Neal could do nothing but stare at the recording, dumbfounded.

"I don't remember ANY of that." Neal said, his voice somewhat horrified. He carefully noted the fire in John's eyes.

"Rose of Sharon Cassidy. Who is she?" Neal inquired carefully.

"Cass is my wife." John said solemnly.

Neal felt the color drain from his face, "Oh shit."

Sarah could see her father sitting at his usual spot in the solar. Much to her relief Sarah could also spot Cross standing behind him, vigilant as ever. Sarah couldn't help but feel uneasy as she noticed another man sitting a few chairs down from them. Whoever he was, he was quite the foreboding presence, Sarah guessed he had to be somewhere around 6'5. He looked up at the Sentinel with eyes like ice. Sarah could tell he had killed before, and without mercy. She couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. He must have been Burke's bodyguard or something because he sure wasn't any Outcast she remembered.

Burke held his hand out towards a chair, signaling for her to sit down.

Burke remained standing however.

"It seems we're having issues recovering the Wanderer," Burke said.

"Consider how closely you two have worked in recent years," Burke said. Sarah judged by his tone he knew just how closely they had worked.

"We believe you would be able to convince him to return." Burke finished.

Sarah scowled at him at that, "The last time I did that he murdered a vault dweller in cold blood with his bare hands and collapsed into a coma." Sarah's voice growing all the more angry, "What the fuck did you do to him?" she demanded.

Burke only shrugged, "I was only doing my job. My employer instructed me to fix his erratic behavior the best I could."

Sarah's expression continued to grow more puzzled.

"What does that have to do with Citadel?" Sarah said, glancing at her father. His guarded expression showed he knew something of what was going on.

"The Outcasts want him brainwashed to help them regain the Citadel? Is that it?" Sarah said, demanding answers.

Burke's expression changed little, "I suppose that interpretation would suffice." He looked at Elder Lyons for a moment before addressing Sarah, "My employer demands that I only negotiate with the Wanderer. Or you. The Elder's hands are tied here."

Sarah was completely lost now, "Me? Why me?"

Burke shrugged, though Sarah couldn't tell if he was lying or not, "It's not in my job description to ask questions."

"Fine," Sarah said mockingly, "I want answers, not more questions."

"What would you like to know?" Burke said.

Sarah glanced around the room for a moment, taking a moment to size up the large bodyguard. His dark colored power armor was similar to that of the Outcast's standard outfit, but it was completely devoid of any additional markings, such as the Outcast's red stripes they used to distinguish rank.

"Why are you just letting me go to find the Wanderer?" Sarah finally said.

"Because, he won't just waltz up on his own. He knows that won't end well. But if he sees you released free of harm, he'll see that we mean business and perhaps come peacefully, rather than guns blazing."

That made sense to Sarah, though she wished Burke's 'employer' wasn't so reasonable.

"What am I supposed to say to him?" Sarah said shrugging in question.

"Whatever you please, really. If you mention the word 'compact' he'll know what you mean." Burke said, as cryptic as ever.

Sarah raised her eyebrows skeptically.

"And I'm supposed to just trust you on your word? What's stopping me from being shot the minute I leave here?"

"Killing you would be counterproductive." Burke said.

"How so?" Sarah said, not exactly expecting a response.

"You'll see." The large man said. Those were the first words she had ever heard him speak. His expression variation was about as unchanging as Gallows' often was.

Sarah then looked over to her father. Just when she thought he couldn't look any older, he did. His wrinkles had deepened and the dark circles around his eyes grew all the darker.

Sarah feared there was little spirit left in her father, who was looked to in times of struggle to keep on a brave face. If he fell, the Brotherhood's East Chapter would surely follow. Sarah could not allow that to happen. No matter what she had to face. She was the Sentinel. Everyone, her father included was looking to her.

Sarah gave her father a purposeful nod and stood, turning sharply on heel and heading for the exit.

"Your armor will be waiting for you outside the gate." Burke said after Sarah as she exited the solar. She didn't dare turn and look at that worm, Burke. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him.

"When you handed Cass over to the Van Graffs, they wanted her gone. But it seemed that killing her wasn't enough." John said, pain obvious in his voice. Neal felt extremely uncomfortable through the entirety of the exchange. He had never seen John express any emotion at all. And here he was talking to Neal as if he trusted him like a longtime friend and comrade.

"Somewhere along the line, 'possession' of Cass changed hands. I have a few leads but I assume Burke will know. That's why I'm here. And since you got me into this mess, you're going to get us _all _out of it.

Neal entered his old room, old memories flooding his mind. Like the many science projects he had done with Dad, pranking one another, and Dad 'not knowing anything' about Neal's sneaking out at night to either see Amata or shoot his BB gun.

Neal smiled sadly. He missed his dad. He knew going here would give him a sense of clarity. Here things had been easy, whether he realized back then or not. He couldn't believe that he would do such a thing, let alone not remember any of it. It had to be a mistake. Or perhaps he really had. There had to be a reason he didn't remember. Neal knew himself too well to believe that he would do something that drastic unless he felt there was no other option left.

Neal needed to blow off some steam and clear his head. Since Sarah was most likely under Outcast capture his only confidante was his own thoughts.

Neal removed his armor and neatly set it in the corner. He noticed the deep gray paint was beginning to chip off. It wasn't in its usual pristine shape but there were worse things than slightly damaged armor.

He removed his sleeveless undershirt and took his commando style pants, revealing shorts. Layers were a wasters best friend, you had be prepared for any sort of weather. The desert-like night made it quite cold, but by mid morning it could be scorching hot that very next day.

Neal fell into the pushup position and began to let the gears in his mind turn.

"Thirty-five," he whispered to himself

"_Why did you give up on Project Purity, Dad?"_

"_Because I had something more important to take care of." He smiled at his now grown son. It was apparent on his face that he had never doubted it was the best decision._

"_You see, Neal. There comes a time in a man's life where he must make a decision to walk away. It isn't giving up or running in fear. It is simply sacrifice for the on he loves. Laying down something very important for the greater good. It wasn't easy, Neal, but I'm glad I did it." _

"Sixty-eight."

"_Why?" Neal asked, his brow crinkling in curiosity. He couldn't imagine giving up his life's work for any reason. _

"_Because of you. All of that time to step away and regain my focus. Raise you." James looked at Neal, returning from his reflective stare, "It really helped me see what I was fighting for. And I'd do it all again, because you were more important. That's part of sacrifice, Neal. Your mother giving her life for you is another example. That's something you'll understand one day."_

Eventually, Neal finished his pushups, finding a hundred fifty to be surprisingly easy. He had expected more difficulty reaching that number since he hadn't exactly had time to keep up his fitness in the past few weeks. He had barely managed to work up a small layer of sweat.

He rested on his knees, fists balled up and pressed against his thighs. He glanced down at his arms and found them to be more defined than he remembered. He shook his head in disbelief. What else was he forgetting? He thought back to his father's words, wondering why they came to mind now. His subconscious was obviously hinting at something. Maybe somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered what had transpired for him to be in this mess. He couldn't imagine what was so important to force him to carry out Burke's kidnapping mission, particularly that of a woman.

Neal stood and moved over to the doorway that led into his room. He looked up at the slightly bent frame. He smiled slightly as he reached up and found the grooves in which his fingers had previously formed. He had to have done thousands of pull-ups here in his youth. Then it was all about the ladies and nothing about survival. He smiled at that thought. If only it were that simple now. His dad had always chastised him in saying that if the doorframe ever broke he would take Neal to the diner for celebratory pie from Old Lady Palmer. He had always been so skinny in his youth. Breaking the frame would have been quite the feat back then. He had hardly weighed more than a buck sixty. As for now, Neal had no idea how much he weighed. It was at least fifty pounds more if he had to guess.

Neal reached up and took ahold of the doorframe. He widened his stance and began performing pull-ups. He could hear the doorframe audibly groan as he went about his pull-ups. He was only able to get fifteen in before the frame as well as part of the wall crumbled and fell down. Neal still held the majority of the dismembered doorframe in his hands. He stared down at it. Either he weighed a lot more than he initially thought or the doorframe had since worn down.

He sat the doorframe down to the side and brushed the rest of the rubble to the side the best he could. He looked over to the far wall where he had framed the quote of Tecumseh. He admired how neat his handwriting had been, pulling the frame from the wall and sliding the paper out. He speculated how terrible his penmanship would look now, considering how little paper and pencils were readily available in the wastes.

He heard the sound of distant footsteps, at first he thought it was John, but the lightness of them suggested a female. He quickly tucked the paper into his pants pocket and began to dress, starting with his camouflage commando pants.

He stopped changing and glanced up to see Amata's hollow face peer through the doorway. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she appeared to have her emotions under control at the moment. She glanced at the hole in the doorframe and then found the pile of rubble.

"What happened here?" she said. Her voice was noticeable devoid of emotion. She was obviously seeking a subject other than her father. Neal smirked slightly, "It seems I've gained a little weight."

Amata sniffed in, attempting to stop her running nose.

"Obviously. You look like you could eat the Neal that left here four years ago," she joked half-heartedly. She looked over his well-built torso as if emphasizing her point.

Neal inhaled in a slight laugh.

"Probably," his eyes fell to the floor shamefully. He knew he should have done more to comfort Amata…especially with what he knew.

Before he could voice this apology, Amata spoke up, "What did they do to you, Neal?"

Neal met her hazel eyes, "I don't know," his face fell, showing his true emotional state. He pulled his shirt over his head and down his side, the shirt fit his muscular frame rather tightly, leaving little of physique to the imagination.

Amata's look about as sympathetic as a person in her situation could muster.

"People are telling me about things I've done recently and I have no recollection of it. I get the feeling that everything that's happening now is my doing…" Neal said, staring at the floor the whole time. He shook his head shamefully.

Amata moved a step closer to him and pulled his desk chair out and sat on it, "Like what?"

"Like the reason John's here. Apparently I met up with Burke somewhere and tried to hire him to take out the Outcasts."

Amata's eyes widened despite their puffiness, "Why would you do that?" her voice didn't sound convinced this was true.

Neal sat on his old bed. It let loose a considerable creak, the hinges protesting against his weight.

"Well, they've always been a problem. Hell, they tried to kill me at one point. But I worked things out with their leader. As far I knew last, they have a truce with the Brotherhood." Neal said with a shrug.

Amata looked slightly lost, "I usually keep up with these things but can you remind me what the story is with those two?"

"Basically the original Brotherhood goals were to acquire, preserve, and understand old world tech. When Elder Lyons took the lead of the East chapter, he decided to make keeping the capital wastes safe. The tech ideals were still there, just seen as less important." Neal said.

Amata finished the story, "But not everyone like that and some decided to cut and run. Why does that sound familiar?" Amata said sarcastically.

Neal nodded, "Yeah, seems to be a common issue."

Amata returned to the original topic, "So, why would you pay Burke to take out the Outcasts?"

Neal shrugged, "The only thing I can think of is Operation Anchorage."

After a moment Neal realized she didn't know what that was.

"It's a pre-war simulation the government used to train their troops for Operation Anchorage. Rothchild has his eye on it for training wastelanders that want to join their ranks. But obviously that couldn't happen unless the Outcasts were 'gone'." Neal said, dragging his thumb across his throat like a knife.

Amata gave him a look of scrutiny, "You wouldn't kill that many people for a simulation… would you?" While she seemed to not believe he would do such a thing, there was a hint of worry in her voice.

Neal shook his head. "There has to be more to it. There's no way I would have…" he trailed off, purposely avoiding Amata's gaze.

"Would have what?" she said, her voice worried.

"I… The reason John is here is because… well. He thinks I may have kidnapped his wife and handed her over to her enemies. Apparently it was to get Burke to agree to help me." Neal said shamefully.

Amata's jaw fell as far as physically possible, "Are you serious?"

Neal only stared, "I really hope that's not true, but… I guess I'll find out soon enough. People aren't going to take this stuff lightly."

"Like Sarah for one. John for another," Amata added.

Neal sighed, "Yeah."

"I guess the reason I came down here was to ask you something." Amata said, hoping the subject change would make the talk less tense.

Neal looked at her expectantly. She noticed how conflicted he looked, it wasn't outwardly apparent, rather hidden in his worldly looking blue eyes.

"Does it get any easier?" Amata asked.

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"Loss. After James died… How did you…"

Neal looked down for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"Well, I suppose I drank… a lot. And I… well. The Pride helped me out a lot. They left after I got the transmission from Vault 101. So I came here and… yeah." Neal said, fumbling with his narration of the worst time in his life.

It took Amata a moment to catch on, once she did, her eyes grew remorseful, "Neal-I… didn't know."

"It's fine," Neal said, his voice firm, "It's in the past. I've moved on."

Amata nodded, though still a bit shaken up. Neal reached out and placed a reassuring hand just above her knee.

"The best thing you can do is to keep going. You don't forget, but you can't let it consume you," Neal's eyes were powerful, backing the intensity of his words. Even in all of her grief, Amata began to feel inspired by his words.

"You still have people depending on you to watch over them and guide them to safety. Not everyone has the power or the courage to take on that responsibility." Neal continued.

Amata made a connection, "It's just like that quote you always recited. Tecumseh."

Neal smiled slightly, "Yeah."

For a moment, Amata could see that Neal still cared for her. He still believed in her. That made one of them.

She screwed her eyes shut before tears could fall out and stifled a weepy breath.

"Does it get any easier?" Amata asked again.

"Not in my case," Neal admitted. "Fighting the good fight is harder than it sounds."

Amata bit down on the inside of her lip.

"What can I do?"

He obviously hadn't been expecting what she said, for Neal's attention was now fully on her and not his other lingering problems.

"Well, I don't know if Julian has told you, but…"

"I know, you want us to go to Fort Bannister. But that doesn't help you."

Neal sighed, "I don't know if there is any helping me. There will be consequences for my actions, if half of what John said is true."

"What about calling in a few favors? You _are_ the Lone Wanderer."

Neal blinked, feeling a sense of déjà vu at something Amata said. He thought for a moment. For some reason two locations stuck out in his mind. Raven Rock and the stone head from the Lincoln Memorial.

Neal realized Amata had been staring at him expectantly.

"Where is Julian?" Neal asked.

Amata had to think for a moment, "With Christine and the others I assume. We're preparing to head for Fort Bannister."

Neal nodded, his eyes in another place.

"I may not have something for you right away. But at some point, I may send you and Julian to the Temple of the Union." Neal warned.

"Temple of the Union?" Amata inquired.

"It's important that Julian goes there. There's someone there he needs to see." Neal said purposely being vague.

Amata nodded, "Okay."

* * *

**Hopefully that clears things up for everyone. There are obviously still some loose ends but that is the fun of it! If you're still lost please feel free to ask. **

**Now that I've finally finished Bioshock Infinite I have to say it is one of the best games I've played yet. This may contain light spoilers so read at your own risk. What really upped the ante for me was Elizabeth. She wasn't some damsel in distress. She and Booker had a great connection and they didn't trust each other right off the bat, but throughout the course of the game, it showed Booker, a brash and broken man, needed the innocent and refreshing optimism Elizabeth brought to the table. However, Elizabeth is gradually made to see how the Prophet affected Columbia and Booker gained a purpose in life. When it came to helping Elizabeth, I genuinely wanted to. While it was a part of the quest line it didn't feel like a burden.**

**That being said, Elizabeth is probably the most helpful companion to date. She saved my ass numerous times by throwing me vigors or health packs. She also created tears that gave me cover or weapons. I have yet to see a character I have liked more. I applaud the creativity and thoroughness that the developers put into it. I have to say it Bethesda but… Your move.**


	14. Chapter 14: The Compact

**A/N: Whoa... It has been far too long. I have been working on this chapter for awhile now, trying to decide how far into the timeline I should go this chapter. I think I've got things pretty well divided. So let me tell you now, the first portion of the story was meant to be confusing, since most of the time the issues were from the Wanderer's point of view, you will see why this is in this chapter. I've been hinting at it for awhile and now...boom goes the dynamite.**

**NCRMC: The end is in sight! I have a pretty solid plan for where things will go. And it will go with a bang!**

**coastierks: Ahh catfights... They never get old. I will be finishing soon if everything goes as planned! Thank you for sticking with me!**

**AnthonyR89: Yes, the legion are technophobes, but we really haven't found where they tie in. I'm evading that for a reason. Are they just Neal's imagination, or are they actually there? *pause for suspense* As for him working with Burke, that really remains to be seen. Burke likes to think that the memory loss will allow him to take the upper hand, but will that happen? By the way, I like the fact that you are honest with me and critique me a bit. ****Nice catch with the Smith Casey's Garage, I'll fix that. **I hope that the course of action as we tail towards the end will satisfy you, which I think it will. 

**The Night Hunter: Thank you! There will be more. My muse is roarin'!**

**Adams7: This should clear things up. **

**jhaynes0529: Thanks! The image gets a bit darker as we continue into the story. Sure, Neal looks like goody two shoes, as Butch calls him, but that's just the way Three Dog portrays him, so those who do not know him personally or have never fought alongside him, wouldn't know any different. As for the people, like Sarah, that see him in such a good light, they are the type that are willing to overlook certain things. They are 'the ends justifies the means' sort of people.**

* * *

Neal had been in the Vault 101 men's bathroom for a quite awhile, just staring at himself in the mirror. The pressing question was beating at his brain like a super mutant with a sledgehammer. What could possibly justify the things he had allegedly done? He thought back to the tape of him speaking with Burke. He wanted the Outcasts gone. Apart from their verbal opposition and isolation from of the rest of the Brotherhood, they really didn't present much of a threat. Practicing the old ways of the Brotherhood, they were an isolationist group and rarely left Fort Independence.

Neal knew he was no saint. In fact, he was far from it. The wastes had made him cold and calculating. He had essentially become a machine, a powerful tool to be used to gain leverage. Even though he once refused to believe it, Neal knew this was true even of the Brotherhood. Neal still respected them, even though they almost singlehandedly kept the Capital wasteland as safe as it was, they were just like any faction. They engaged in politics and denied responsibility for a series of cover-ups and silenced whistleblowers. When the Brotherhood didn't want to get their hands dirty, they called the Lone Wanderer. He could be so easily discarded should he fail. When Neal became aware of this, he didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was overwhelming. Elder Lyons had played on Neal's affection for Sarah to get him to create the ultimate endgame scenario. It was called 'The Compact'. Neal's mind flickered to a fragmented memory, though it didn't seem real at first, he began to get a sense that it had actually happened.

"_The Brotherhood cannot stand alone, Wanderer, surely you know that." Elder Lyons said, his fingers forming a steeple. Neal nodded, taking no pains to hide his lackluster expression. Neal leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the back of his head, his well-muscled arms flexing as they locked into position above his head. He looked at the Elder tiredly. _

_Neal was a strikingly handsome young man there was no doubt. He received a great deal of his looks from his father. It was easy for the Elder to see why just about any woman could fall victim to the Lone Wanderer's good looks and charisma alone, not to mention the pristine reputation he had, thanks to Three Dog. Lyons had thought his daughter immune to such things, though he knew little about their relationship. He thought perhaps it was time he asked Sarah about this. He returned to the topic at hand._

_Elder Lyons met the Wanderer's eyes, "Are you not sleeping well?" He said, his tone rather indicative of the relationship between Neal and his daughter._

_Neal only stared down at the table before him._

_The Elder knew the Wanderer deep down was good person. The things he was forced to do in his relatively short life were more than even Elder Lyons himself had. _

"_So tell me, Neal. What did…" The Elder was at a loss for a name._

"_Pinkerton." Neal answered. "Pinkerton came to a similar conclusion. There's a lot of brain damage. Once it's damaged, especially to the degree mine is, it never functions normally again."_

_Star Paladin Cross gave the young man a concerned look. _

"_What does this mean exactly, Neal?"_

_Neal's eyes were grave as they met hers. She mused at how much he looked like his father, the eyes must have been his mother's. Cross had never met Catherine, but considering how incredible of a man James Washington had been, Catherine must have been equally so._

"_It means that basically the damage is irreparable. Memories become distorted or forgotten altogether. It's getting progressively worse, so we have to expect that at some point I won't… Remember anything…" Neal said trailing off. _

_The Elder's voice was somewhat sympathetic, "It's too bad Dr. Li left for the Commonwealth."_

_Neal shrugged, "I think she got tired of my parents' ghosts chasing her around. Besides, Pinkerton's the best surgeon around. If he can't do it, Madison wouldn't have been able to either."_

_Elder Lyons' crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He looked down at his hands absently, "I know what you need to do. But the question is, will you?"_

Neal blinked into the mirror, realizing that his eyes had fogged over. Was he hallucinating? He thought for a moment, realizing that this was his endgame. The Elder knew, Cross knew, but he couldn't remember. Perhaps he had anticipated this. He must have hidden clues somewhere.

Thinking back on the memory, Neal knew he was running out of time fast. This arrangement, whatever it was, was mutually beneficial for the Brotherhood and the Capitol Wasteland. Nowhere did it seem to entail anything beneficial for Neal. At least that sounded like him. Neal was patient when he needed to be and always had a plan. He had a gift of being able to foresee potential outcomes and reactions and plan for them. This was why an endgame or failsafe of sorts was not out of character for him. It seemed his moment of solipsism had provided a glimpse of a memory he had forgotten. He was losing his mind. He knew it, but at least now some of his alleged actions made sense. Burke must have double-crossed him. Or was that part of the plan? Neal knew only one person in the Capitol Wasteland who could perform such a risky surgery, but he doubted Pinkerton would have left his place in the bow of Rivet City. Perhaps Burke had brought the surgeon along from back west. Or maybe he did coax Pinkerton from his hole. It didn't exactly matter right now. All he knew, is he was running out of time and if he were to execute this plan, he needed to act fast.

* * *

Amata walked at a quick pace. Her mind was set on a mental checklist she had created for the Vault denizens. They needed to get out, and fast. She knew she couldn't take the risk with the door codes being compromised. She didn't have time to mourn her father and part of her was glad for it. Deep down she had wondered how long it would be before his questionable actions or the stress got him. She was just glad she didn't see him get gunned down. Amata didn't have time to dwell on the thought as she almost ran into Freddie as he hurriedly rounded the corner carrying a duffle bag.

In the back of her mind, Amata couldn't help but think back to the last time she saw Neal. He had been acting rather strange ever since he had found her hiding in her office. He had this wild look in his eyes. It was as if he wasn't himself. She told herself that it was just the adrenaline that remained from battle, but she knew this cold, primal look from their first night as captives in that abandoned vault. Whatever those doctors did to Neal's head, it seemed to help at some rate. But even now, he still had episodes where it seemed he didn't know anyone at all. She had seen how confused he was when he had told her about John's reason being here. Something didn't add up. She didn't know if Neal was telling the truth, if it was some plan of his, or what to think of it. Something wasn't just wasn't right. Amata added talking to Neal to the bottom of her mental checklist as she rounded the corner. Right now, she needed to check on Susie and get everyone mobile.

She entered the vault clinic and looked over Susie's bandages. There were less bloodstains than before so it seemed to be healing. Whatever Neal and Julian had done was working better than most had anticipated. The truth was, the vault just didn't see wounds of that severity. The worst was when Stanley had fallen from a ladder and broken ribs. That had made a lot of people squeamish.

"How are you feeling, Susie?" Amata said, forcing a thin smile. She couldn't imagine the types of injuries combat medics saw.

Susie smiled, "I'm fine," she said with a slight wave of her hand. Her smiled faded to a look of sympathy.

"How are_ you_?"

Amata didn't look her in the eye as she began to pack up what medical supplies she could find. She soon realized that the first-aid kit was empty and that everything had already been scrapped. She glanced at Susie in confusion, "Who…?"

Susie smiled a little, "Julian. He came while you were talking with Neal. He redid my bandanges and injected me with some med-x. I should be up and going pretty soon."

Amata smiled at that, but then she reflected on what was said and her brow furrowed, "How did you know I was talking to Neal?"

"Julian," Susie repeated, a toothless smile coming to her face.

"I see." Amata said simply, avoiding talking about her complicated relationship.

"I'm sorry about your father," Susie said quietly, her eyes slightly downcast.

Amata's expression remained neutral, "Thanks Susie. I'm sorry about Wally."

Susie nodded good-naturedly, "Thanks. I don't pity that bastard Burke when Neal gets his hands on him."

Amata was a little confused, she moved out of the room, piled her pack with the others and returned to the clinic.

"Why do you think this is happening?"

Susie wasn't following. She gave Amata a quizzical look.

"Everything. Burke, and his people, whoever they are."

Susie shrugged, "Neal's a real asset to have on your side. He's a weapon and a diplomat all in one, but I suspect he knows more than he's leading on."

"Like what?"

"Why else would he be forcing us to leave the vault if he didn't already know something? Besides, I recall hearing that other guy… the Courier. He said something about memory loss."

Amata looked down at the floor for a moment in thought, then she nodded, "Yes, that does sound familiar, now that you mention it."

* * *

Sarah had been walking for a few hours now. She had spent the night in a pre-war trailer with a mattress in the back. It had formerly been a part of raider territory. She shook her head in disgust at the thought of numerous raiders having sex and puking on that particular mattress. It had smelled bad, but nothing compared what she was used to being around. The smell of death makes anything else seem very minor in comparison.

She wore no armor and carried no weapons, save for a lead pipe she had picked up outside of the Citadel. She was headed for Megaton again. Sarah had decided that she would stock up with things from Neal's cache. She had no idea how she was going to find him. But knowing him, they would by some act of fate, cross paths.

She forced herself to remain alert despite her swimming thoughts. It was just light enough for her to make out Megaton's scrap heap walls in the distance. It was dawn and the sounds of the brisk wasteland winds whistling filled the valley. She felt goose bumps forming on her skin as the cold wind easily whipped through her fatigues.

Sarah delved deep into her mental fortress. The place she went when she was injured or lost. It helped her survive in many tight situations. She needed it now considering the cold made all the stages of injury go faster, or at least that was what Neal had told the Pride. He was something of a field medic for them, though his doctoring wasn't frequently needed, it put everyone's mind a little more at ease.

Sarah continued to scan her surroundings carefully. She noticed a few figures, loitering around the outskirts of Megaton. From what Sarah remembered, Megaton never seemed to have patrols outside the gate. They relied heavily upon their sniper, Stockholm to protect Megaton's only entrance. Anything else that might have snuck through was Sheriff Simms or Jericho's responsibility.

Sarah moved toward the loitering group cautiously. They were most likely raiders, hoping to take advantage of the recent chaos in the area. She wondered where the Megaton residents were. It didn't appear to be inhabited when she and the vaulties attempted to take it back from the Outcasts. She still couldn't figure how they played into this. Sure they hated the Lyons name and the change of policy it presented, but she thought it was audacious for them, especially when she considered they still had friends among the Brotherhood.

Sarah decided to worry about that later since the raiders appeared to take notice of her less than skilled attempt at sneaking. Sarah cursed under her breath at her lack of subtlety. She never was good at sneaking up on anyone. Gallows, Dusk, and Colvin made it unnecessary for her to practice.

The first raider in her immediate vicinity was a scummy looking female waving pool cue madly around. Sarah never could understand the lack of intelligence it would require to choose a pool cue as your weapon of choice, but then again, the raiders didn't exactly have a quartermaster maintaining and giving out weapons. Another factor was the lack of easy targets they usually took advantage of. Improvements made in Brotherhood presence as well as better-equipped caravans had helped more than initially anticipated.

Sarah raised her left forearm and absorbed the impact of pool cue with a grunt. She used the opening to level the lead pipe into the side of the smelly raider. The raider howled and fell to her knees clutching her head. No doubt her tiny, drug fried brain had been rattling around in her skull from that blow.

"BITCH!" the rattled raider howled.

Sarah focused her attention on the two raiders that carried pistols. Normally she would dispatch them from a distance but being sans armor and firepower, she had to compromise and adjust her tactics. She sprinted towards the more powerful weapon, the raider toted a sawed off shotgun. She darted quickly to one side, avoiding the first shot from the shotgun as well as a 10mm round. She then slid baseball style to the raiders' feet, avoiding fire from the 10mm. The shotgun-toting raider smirked as he saw how vulnerable his target was. He casually held the shotgun out to her and began to squeeze the trigger. Sarah dropped the pipe she was carrying and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and twisted it in an attempt to disarm. She used the momentum to stand and deliver a powerful roundhouse kick with her left leg. The man's grip on the shotgun loosened and she ripped it free in one fluid motion and finished her disarm with a shotgun blast to the pistol carrying raider's skull. Sarah felt warmth on her face as blood and entrails splattered onto her face and upper torso. She spat away the blood that rested on her lips and turned back to the raider that had once carried a shotgun, his Mohawk slightly mashed from Sarah's kick. He roared as he charged towards the Sentinel.

Sarah saw her opening and capitalized with a well-executed leg sweep. The raider tumbled to the ground. Sarah quickly used the heavy, blunt end of the shotgun to shatter the man's skull from behind. Sarah knew there was still one raider left. The smelly bitch. She was cursing and struggling to keep her balance as she stumbled about, disoriented.

Sarah moved over to the headless raider's corpse and knelt. She grabbed his pistol, brushing off a piece of eyeball that stuck to it with a disgusted curl of her lip. Sarah remained kneeling and fired off single shot, aimed slightly to the right of the raider's sternum. The shot hit it's mark dead on and the raider fell silently to the ground in a heap. Sarah took a heavy breath and rested for a moment catching her breath. She scanned the area again, and found the area to be secure. She scoffed at that thought. The fucking Citadel wasn't even secure.

* * *

Neal entered the diner once again. He found John sitting just where he had been before. Sitting in the booth, playing with his pip-boy. He stared the Courier for a moment, he knew more than he led on. Neal sat across from the Courier and rested his arms on the table.

"Why did you kill Alphonse?" Neal asked coolly.

John looked up from his pip-boy casually, "There are a number of reasons. One: He was a sick bastard. I copied his terminal files and read them. I'm sure you know what I'm referring to. Two: You needed to see. I'm sure you know what I mean by that too. You were the one who told me to. He worked with the Enclave."

Neal's brow shot upward, "Really?"

Neal connected a few more loose ends, "You were there when I was talking with Burke in the Mojave weren't you? The recording was rather faint. You were in the room. If you really wanted to stop me from taking your wife, you would have."

For a brief moment the Courier's stoic façade relented, he sipped the Nuka-Cola from the vintage glass before responding. Neal knew the Courier was just as astute as he when it came to speech craft. He was formulating a response.

"How perceptive of you. It seems you're remembering quicker than you had anticipated. You are quick-witted Wanderer I will give you that... Yes, in terms of your endgame of sorts, I am your 'out'." He emphasized the last word as if there was more to it.

The Courier continued, "When we met months ago, you had said Alphonse needed to go for Amata's sake. If she were to become any sort of leader, the corrupt father needed to go. Originally he was supposed to be picked off on the way to Fort Bannister, but given the distraction by the VanGraff's people, I took the opportunity. I swear the man wanted to go. He charged out at the sound of my footsteps without a weapon. He never saw me. Luckily, you were still playing around with the other half of the raiding party, so pretty, young Ms. Almodovar didn't see her father's demise."

Neal ignored the obvious jab at his past relationship with Amata. He knew John spoke the truth. Why else would he be here? No other reason made sense.

"So we head for Independence. The vault dwellers shouldn't have trouble getting to Fort Bannister, Reilly has patrols that will find them at some point."

John nodded, "I want to see this Operation Anchorage simulation. It must be quite the asset."

Neal nodded, "An effective way of training soldiers and testing their ability on the battlefield without killing them, I'd say so. That's why the Outcasts had to go. I need to see that Burke has done his half of the job."

The Courier took another sip of Nuka Cola, "He'll double-cross you at some point, though I'm sure you anticipated this."

Neal smirked, "A deal with the devil. I'm sure I fully expected to get burned. At least… I hope I did."

John laughed. Neal suspected it was something more rare than a wastelander surviving a deathclaw attack. Neal stared at the Courier for a moment. He looked a lot younger when he laughed, a lot like Neal. He had to guess they were around the same age.

"Even in your desperate state, you didn't trust that snake for a bit," The Courier said, his voice a lot more conversational than usual. Neal realized this was what he must look like to other people.

Neal pulled out his pip-boy and began to create a timeline of these events. He needed to get everything straight if he were to execute things precisely as he had planned. He still couldn't believe that he didn't remember a plan as massive as the one John hinted at. Knowing himself, Neal suspected he had left some sort of reminder along the way in case he were to forget. He had a feeling Fort Independence was the place.

* * *

Amata glanced around the room making sure everyone was accounted for. All of the vault dwellers were clad in their armored vault suits. Amata glared down at her pip-boy inventory for moment, the armored suits were yet another thing her father had neglected to share with her. Officer Gomez had stumbled across them in a secret portion of the vault. An armory stocked with energy weapons and armor that had been previously unknown to the rest of the vault.

Amata had immediately seen to it that the arms and armor were distributed properly. She made sure that those experienced in arms were given the best weapons and those who were not were firmly told not to use their weapons unless absolutely necessary. Amata knew that despite these instructions the more jumpy and fearful members of the vault would fire at random should they come under fire. She was tempted to not give some them weapons at all. Once she was certain everyone was accounted for, Amata went to look for Neal.

She fumbled with the leather strap that dangled unattached beneath her armpit. The strap was for adjusting the leather shoulder pad of her armor. It protected her shooting arm as well as much of her torso. It constricted her movement a bit, but she wasn't about to complain about more distance between her and a bullet.

When she finally found him, Neal was putting on his dark grey power armor, facing away from her. He must have heard her for he turned to her immediately.

"Did you need something?" he asked, continuing to shift about in his armor as if working out the kinks.

Amata didn't respond right away, she merely stared at the scar on his temple. She noticed he was growing impatient as his scar began to move slightly as his features tightened.

"I just wanted to make sure everything is in place with your end of things." She said nonchalantly.

Neal's eyes narrowed and his mouth fell into a flat line, "Obviously not," he hissed.

Amata found herself growing used to his glares, sadly enough.

"That's not what I meant. I was asking if you and uh…what's his name…are ready to go."

Neal looked through a duffle bag of weapons and other survival items and then nodded.

As much as she wanted to leave this uncomfortable exchange Amata forced herself to stay.

"Is this about you? This whole thing?" Amata ask, it wasn't until now she realized this whole fiasco didn't have name.

Neal's eyes flickered from hers for a moment, when they returned they were a bit more resolute.

"I am strongly involved, yes. But no this is not about me. It's far bigger than that."

Amata wasn't sure if he meant it was a far bigger problem or if the cause was far bigger than himself. Something told her it was the latter.

"Does Sarah know?" Amata asked carefully.

"I suspect she does by now, but things are never going to be the same again. That I know." Neal said, a bit of sadness leaking from his guarded tone.

"Why is that?" Amata said, genuinely trying to understand his situation. She felt sorry for Neal.

"Because I did something that no one else had the guts to do. It needed to be done if we were to get anywhere. The Brotherhood wants to believe that everything is fine since the Enclave is gone, but I saw things when I was out west. That's what those damn hallucinations were. There are much more powerful forces out there just waiting to fill that void in the DC area. The Brotherhood will fail if they don't get more soldiers trained and fast."

Amata's eyes widened, things were starting to make sense, "So you mean, everything that's happening, you planned it?"

Neal appeared annoyed at that being the first thing she caught from that, but he nodded.

"But whose coming? How do you know?" Amata asked, trying not to sound too terrified.

"I can't say. All you need to know is that Vault 101 needs to lend a hand if DC is to survive what's to come." Neal said gravely.

Amata opened her mouth and closed it once before responding, the magnitude of the Lone Wanderer's words sinking in.

"What should we do?"

Neal turned and grabbed the green armor he previously wore and handed it to her.

"This armor was given to me by a friend, Reilly. We have something of a mutually beneficial relationship. I took Fort Bannister for her people to set up and relocated a few friends of mine to help with the upkeep and in return she is setting up quite the stronghold should the inevitable occur. This is why I am sending you there. I need her help."

Amata stared at the armor then looked back up at Neal, "I still don't understand what I'm supposed to do."

Neal began to unstrap Amata's shoulder armor. She felt a strange heat in her body that she hadn't felt in years, but she did her best to hide it.

"I want you to tell her I need her to help me take back the Citadel. Tell her I'm calling in my favor."

Amata realized what he was doing when he began to lift the green armor up to her. She began to slip it on, holding her breath as she took in a whiff of body odor. The armor fit her awkwardly, much too large for her frame. She began to adjust the straps so it fit her a little better, but it still was too big, obviously meant to fit a man.

"What does this armor have to do with anything?"

Neal pointed to the insignia on the chestplate, "This is a gift she gave me. Her merc company's armor. If her people see you wearing it they will know I sent you."

Amata nodded, absorbing all this information.

"And once I'm there?"

"You just tell her about the favor and then sit tight." Neal ordered.

"But I do have need of Julian," Neal said.

Amata looked a reluctant, "Why?"

"He needs to contact another group for me since I cannot do it myself. He knows someone among them, so I figured a familiar face would help." Neal explained.

Amata nodded slowly, "I don't want him getting hurt, Neal." She warned.

Neal didn't appear concerned in the least.

"I know how you feel about him, but you were the same way with me." He said carefully.

"What do you mean?" Amata asked, feeling a strange sensation in her stomach at the topic of their past romance.

"You worried too much. Julian's been working with the caravans for years. Long before he met either of us. He's been through a lot, so I have no doubt he'll make it." Neal said in a reassuring tone. Amata could sense he was uncomfortable, though he hid it well.

Amata finally nodded, "Okay. But still be careful, Neal."

Neal gave her a look that told her he couldn't oblige her request.

"I always am, but things don't always work out." His eyes went to the floor sadly.

He obviously knew something about the future that he wasn't about to share. He looked up at her again for a moment as picked up his helmet and held it in the crook of his arm.

"You be careful too. DC is gonna need leadership if it is to remain free. Even when everything looks grim, you can't show fear. There are many people looking to you."

Amata knew she would do well to remember this. He was hinting at the future, and he was counting on her. The vault was counting on her.

She watched as Neal put his helmet on and headed toward the atrium. She looked at the empty picture frames that once held a picture of his parents and the other was of Neal and James. The Washingtons had given everything for the wasteland. Neal had given even more. Amata had learned a lot from James and Neal. She looked up to the vault's former doctor. She took a deep breath once he was out of sight. Amata adjusted her armor and marched to the atrium.

It was her turn to take a stand.

* * *

**A/N: So, there we have it. Things are coming to a head. As we learn a little this chapter, Neal has forgotten his master plan. He has to move quickly if he wants to get everything taken care for the compact to succeed. Though some of you might not agree that the Brotherhood was using the Wanderer, I felt this was at least a little bit the case. As they learned just what the Wanderer was capable of, they decided to throw him/her out there more. What did your Wanderer get for it? I know, power armor and a few guns, but really? I could definitely see Elder Lyons slowly start to abuse his little go to. *shrugs* but that's just me. As always, I'd like to hear everyone weigh in on this chapter or the topic above. Let me know what you think! Also, if anyone is interested in being my faithful beta, please PM me. Your duties would include, pestering me to write chapters, provide input, and proofread. I'll consider my candidate(s) carefully. **


	15. Chapter 15: Loose Ends

**So before I go any further, I'd like to point out that I have made a goof. Chazzen01 kindly pointed this out. Instead of making everyone re-read, I will just tell you here. I decided Burke was being too nice, because frankly, the guy's an ass. So giving Sarah power armor was too generous. Besides, she's more than capable of kicking ass without it. **

**Sgtranglin: My loyal reviewer! Your reviews are always encouraging and show how invested you are in this story. Thank you!**

**Shamedwolf34: Glad I'm not the only one! I got to Adams AFB and I paused the game when I saw all of the Enclave guys shooting at me. One of my biggest WTF moments in Fallout 3. How could Elder Lyons honestly think the LW could take that place by him/her self? He probably just decided to toss him/her out there like his loyal pet to soften them up for later. *shakes head**

**Chazzen01: You get partial credit for your prediction. Which is good because I don't want everyone to have the end figured out before it comes. *evil grin**

_So they dug your grave,_

_And the masquerade,_

_Will come calling out,_

_At the mess you've made,_

_Don't want to let you down,_

_But I am hell bound,_

_Don't want to hide the truth_

_-Demons by Imagine Dragons_

Neal met John at the vault cog, both armored and ready to move out. Dogmeat was waiting there for him as well. The two discussed tactics for a while, they decided on scouting the outskirts of Fort Independence before they actually proceeded. The two mused at wearing the Outcast power armor if they needed to infiltrate. Neal suspected they wouldn't need too. His similarly hued armor was often mistaken for Outcast armor anyways.

When Julian finally arrived, Neal briefed him on his individual mission.

"Have you ever heard of the Temple of the Union before?"

Julian shook his head, "No."

Neal pointed it out on the map.

"If you see pieces of the Lincoln Memorial, you know you've got the right place." Neal joked dryly. To which Julian smirked.

"Simple enough. I can find it."

Neal nodded, "They will initially be suspicious of you. They are all former slaves, so they're very cautious about whom they let in and out. But I'm banking on a certain individual will recognize you, and I bet the same goes for you knowing her." Neal said rather vaguely.

Julian's brow knitted together curiously, but he decided not to press the matter.

"What do you want me to do then?"

"Burke has been banking on the lack of Brotherhood presence since, well… Most of them are being held at the Citadel. So he's been setting up slaving routes along the main roads. Ballsy bastard." Neal said bitterly.

Julian nodded, "So you want me to get the Temple of the Union to help stop the routes?"

Neal nodded, "Exactly."

Something occurred to Julian, "What about the GNR Plaza? Aren't there still Brotherhood soldiers there?"

Neal smiled, "Yes there are. I believe Paladin Kodiak and Knight Captain Colvin are there. See if you can round them up for the big show."

Julian didn't have to ask what he meant by that.

He slipped his hand around his combat shotgun and secured the hunting rifle on his back. He had taken the time dust his old lightweight leather armor out. It still fit him like a glove. He never understood that expression but he had heard it numerous times since he had come to vault and he found himself using it.

"I'll be on my way immediately." Julian said, checking his gear one last time.

Neal clasped a hand on his shoulder before he could go.

He spoke in a quiet tone, which cued John to mind his own business.

"I may not see you again until this all over. So in case I don't get the chance to say it…I'm counting on you to take over. Rebuilding the Citadel, jumpstarting the Anchorage simulation. A storm is coming and I need you and Amata spearheading all operations outside of the Brotherhood. Whether they admit it or not, they are not infallible as they would have you believe. That is the very purpose of Burke's little demonstration. He wants to soften their confidence and plant the seed of doubt in their minds. His employers are a force to be reckoned with."

Julian was following everything to the letter except for one detail.

"How do you know all of this? Why are you talking like you won't be here?" Julian asked.

Neal's eyes hardened a bit.

"I know all of this because of my time out west. I met John while I was out there, that's when this imminent threat was brought to my attention. There's a lot more to it, but that's something Amata already knows. She'll fill you in when you need to know. For now, ready up. DC will need you. Hold fast, my friend." Neal said with conviction and a firm nod. He slid his helmet onto his head and turned back towards the cog.

He turned back briefly, "Oh, and Dogmeat is going to show you there." The dog whimpered, but he seemed to warm up to Julian after a pat from his master.

"Take care of him, boy." Neal said with a fond pet.

The alarm began its irritating beep as the equally ear-shredding sound of metal on metal filled the air. Julian clasped his hands over his ears and turned to face the atrium, hoping he could see Amata one last time before he left, he saw her enter the room alone. She gave him a peculiar look and pulled him in to a passionate kiss by his lapels. This surprised him only slightly less than it excited him. Julian gave her a breathless look, unsure of what to say. He turned around to see if the Lone Wanderer and Courier were there, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"Good luck." Was all Amata said, she even shoved him for good measure.

Julian smiled at her, "You too." He turned and headed out through the cog and opened the wooden door at the end of the cavern. He resisted the temptation to look back her. He knew this mission was more important than anything he had previously done. It had been given to him by the Lone Wanderer himself, he could not fail.

Sarah was feeling a lot better since she had returned to Megaton. The only residents the town had were rotting corpses. Sarah couldn't help but wonder what happened to the Megaton residents, but then again, maybe she didn't want to know.

Sarah began shuffling through Neal's things again. She was in the spare room next to the bedroom. It was something of an armory. Sarah spotted some reinforced leather armor and began to put it on. It was too tight in some places and loose in others. She shifted around in it uncomfortably as she reached for the adjustable straps. As she tightened one of the sides, Sarah heard a strange thud. Something had fallen onto the floor. Sarah bent over and picked it up. It was a holotape. Sarah guessed Neal must have left it there, but whether or not it was on purpose, she couldn't tell. For now, she resumed restocking her weapons. She grabbed the blackwater rifle and tossed it over her shoulder. She grabbed a plasma pistol and set it in the hip holster. There were a few compartments left for stimpaks and other essentials, which she eagerly filled. She was reminded of the fact that she hadn't eaten in nearly a day by a loud growl from her stomach. It seemed the holotape would have to wait for the moment.

Sarah thundered down the stairs and began grabbing boxes of food from the shelves that didn't require any preparation and headed back upstairs to continue restocking.

She munched on some dandy boy apples as she filled the ammo compartments and finished the meal with some pork n' beans. She decided to listen to the recording, so she rolled the desk chair back and sat in it placing her food and utensils before her and pulled the recorder over towards her. On a whim she decided to pull the floating piece of brain down before her and look at it moment. Then something in the back of her mind clicked. The memory loss. The spells of mood swings. The night terrors. She thought back to the time when she had been injured in the field a few months after the end of the war with the Enclave. This was the last time Neal had gone out with the Pride. They had been in mutie territory. That event was one of the most commonly recurring nightmares Neal experienced.

_She had been hit. As she rested weakly against the crumbled piece of building framework, Sarah cursed herself for not wearing a helmet more often. She could feel the warmth running down the right side of her neck. She instinctively placed a hand over it to help stop the breath, but she did not dare look at her hand. She needed to stay conscious. Through the ringing in her ears, Sarah could hear Kodiak shouting for the Wanderer. No, Neal, his name was Neal. She didn't know why she was pretending not to know his name now. Maybe it was part of the act. Pretending they weren't together._

_Sarah could still barely hear the sounds of gunfire in the background. Everything was starting to get very bright. She wondered if this was indeed death. She'd always hoped it would be quicker than this._

_Sarah could tell by the desperation in Kodiak's voice that she was hurt pretty badly. Nothing was clear to Sarah anymore. Her eyelids were starting to get heavy. Then something finally broke through the light. Something clear. She could see a handsome face looking at her. He spoke, but it was hard to make out._

"_Stay with me." Was all she could make out. Though he probably meant don't die, Sarah began to think about what he really meant. Was it about the choice between their relationship and her duty? _

_She felt a hand on her wound. She recoiled at the sting. She cringed in pain. There was a syringe headed towards her. Was that med-x?_

_Sarah's eyes widened involuntarily._

_The needle looked bigger than most med-x syringes. _

_Neal appeared to notice her silent terror. Or was she talking? She couldn't right tell._

_Sarah could saw _

_Sarah forced her eyes open to look at him again. His beautiful blue eyes were focused on the burning spot in her neck. She forced her eyes to glance around. After a bit the burning seemed to subside. She felt herself being moved to a sitting up position and she was tilted to one side. She could feel the pressure on her neck growing firmer. She hissed in pain. She could hear apologies whispered into her ear. Despite the numbness, Sarah could feel herself begin to fade. Her breath became shorter and more difficult. She could hear someone shouting orders._

"_Elevate her legs!" someone shouted._

_She felt a breath escape her lips with a feeling of finality. She saw her mother smiling at her and it made her feel calm. She could still hear voices shouting in the distance. Her mother reached her hand out for Sarah to take. As she reached out to take it, Sarah felt regret in the back of her mind._

_Then, like being pulled from a dream. Sarah was yanked from what she assumed to be death. She could feel herself gasping for air and coughing. There was still a firm hand on her neck and a determined face before her. She studied the Lone Wanderer's face as she studied his face as she regained her senses. _

_His face was a mix of attractive and terrifying, but for some reason the terrifying made her like what she saw all the more. But then again that was her. Neal met her eyes and appeared to be watching them for something. He appeared satisfied and straightened from being hunched over her. His hand moved slightly from its place on her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw him move close to it, some type of paste bottle in one hand, and a cloth in another. Neal dabbed at the wound gently and then began to use the paste carefully. She assumed he was using wonderglue to seal the wound. He began to move the glue down the laceration that was larger than she had guessed. Judging by Neal's movements it ran down the side of her neck to the crook. Even she knew how many vital arteries were in this area. She blinked heavily and tried to move her tongue, only to find it felt like cotton. How much blood had she lost? _

_When Sarah finally recovered, she had found out that she had lost a great deal of blood. So much, in fact, that she required an emergency blood transfusion. Thankfully Colvin shared her blood type. She thanked him and ran her hand gingerly along the wounded area of her neck. It was lined with stitches and extremely sore. She could still feel the remnants of glue sticking to her fingers. Sarah looked over her people. They were all in a loose circle. The Wanderer and Dusk were sitting together and cleaning their weapons while Colvin, Glade, Kodiak were keeping an eye on the perimeter. She assumed Gallows was doing the same as well. Doing the math, the numbers were correct, but she still felt the sting of losing Vargas. He had been killed during the counterattack on the purifier. Glade had taken over as the second in command. He stood closest to her, keeping a vigilant watch. He was like a much older brother to her. He had been there from the beginning. He had followed her father from California. Sarah looked over to Neal and Dusk._

_She remembered the close friendship between them. The two loved to pick at each other as well as the other Pride members. Keeping the sniper rivalry alive, Colvin one day implied that Dusk had a thing for Neal, which lead to more bickering between the two snipers. No one really knew if Colvin's implications had any merit, but it sure pissed Dusk off. In her previous commands Sarah would have been forced to reprimand her team. But given they were all hardened veterans, they could handle the ribbing. It helped loosen everyone up in the tense nature of their duty._

_This time, as Sarah looked on her lethal sniper and the former lone wolf, the two were not smiling and joking like usual. They both wore looks of concern and appeared to be in a profound conversation. Most of it was Neal talking and Dusk nodding or providing input. She could see Neal was concerned about something. He cast a watchful glance in her direction and was mildly surprised to see she was conscious. He obviously said something to the others for they all turned and looked at her. Glade, too. They entire Pride stood synchronously and saluted her. "Sentinel." They all said, conviction in their voices. Sarah, with the help of Glade stood. She noticed the brief look of concern from Neal as she stiffly made to stand. It evaporated quickly as they all received the return salute. She dismissed them and moved over to Neal to thank him privately for his efforts._

_0-0-0-0-_

Neal and John stalked through the skeletal brush atop the hill that overlooked Fort Independence. They found a good spot for John to set up and to scout the base. They were pretty sure that the Outcast patrols would be along this spot shortly, if they were still functional that is. Neal and John lay prone peering through a sniper riflescope and binoculars, respectively. They saw a few patrols doing perimeter checks. They continued to branch out slowly and thoroughly.

"I'm going in. Don't fire on them unless necessary. If we lure them out of their base they'll be more difficult to take out when they're scattered," Neal said.

John nodded, "Once the patrols are dealt with, I'll join you inside. You promised me a spin on the Anchorage simulation. I had friends there."

Neal gave him a puzzled look but John dismissed it with a nod at his scope.

"Later." He said.

Neal grunted and resumed scouting.

"I really hope the VanGraff's cronies at least softened them up." Neal said sadly.

John gave him as sympathetic a look as a hardened soldier could give another.

"Has to be done." He said grimly.

Neal nodded, "I tried to tell them their superiors back west aren't around anymore, but they only got hostile."

"It's that mentality that forced my hand," John said with a slight shake of his head, "They had to go."

Neal knew he spoke of the west chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel. He knew them being gone prevented the Lyons' from facing the consequences of splintering from the original ideals, but Neal knew that those were Sarah's brothers and sister that John had exterminated. Whether they agreed with one another no longer mattered if they were gone. Her mother was still buried there…somewhere. It would still be a bitter pill for Sarah to swallow.

"Once you engage, I'm weapons free." John said with a flick of his safety.

Neal nodded and pulled his helmet over his head. He checked over his assault rifle as well as his tri-beam and Blackhawk. He heard something hit the dirt. He saw John had tossed him something. Neal picked up the tubular shaped piece of metal.

He looked at John rather surprised, "A silencer? Nice."

John only smirked as he returned to watching the patrols.

"There's a pattern in their perimeter sweeps." John observed.

"If you can sneak between them, you can get in without the majority of the force knowing you're there."

Neal nodded, "Consider it done." His voice was distorted through his mask. He finished screwing the silencer onto his Xuanlong assault rifle and headed out.

Neal began moving down the hill a little at a time, continually ducking in and out of sight. He knew going straight up to the building was suicide, but he should be able to take out the automated turret silently if he snuck through a break in the fence.

Neal could see a trio approaching him and he held his position in the ravine at the base of the hill. He glanced down at the stealth boy secured around his wrist. He twisted the gear into action and moved past the patrols undetected. Now for that damn turret. THUNK! Neal looked down and saw that he had kicked a rock. He paused, looking at the trio. They were looking right at him, before a feral growl from the left grabbed all four's attention. A Yaoi Guai had decided to lend a hand, and Neal naturally an animal friend, merely breathed a sigh of relief and continued on. It was that sort of luck that saved his ass early on.

Amata and the vault dwellers moved solemnly towards the location marked on their pip-boys. Fort Bannister. Amata glanced back at her ragtag group. They were exhausted and terrified, the older ones anyways. Amata and her peers were the first generation in the vault's history to fight against the brainwashing of the Overseer's of the past. It had taken some time for them, as imperfect as they were, to come to their senses about their future, but now they were all fighting for a future. Amata kept an eye out, but she relied heavily upon Christine, Freddie, and even the recovering Susie to be her eyes and ears. They were the ones with the most experience in the harsh wastes. She still made sure to keep her 10mm handy. She felt a heavy weight on her shoulders but it wasn't her armor. It was the weight of knowledge. The worst was yet to come. Amata couldn't imagine how things could get any worse, but still, there were many who had suffered far more than she. She knew that many lives were depending on her. Knowing that she was meant for something, that Neal trusted her with something important. It gave her purpose. Amata glanced back at her people, feeling more and more like their leader as they carried onward. She knew now, that it was up to her to protect those who could not protect themselves. Amata was no warrior, but she had a way with words that could not be ignored.

Amata glanced down at her pip-boy, she knew it was sometime around 2 and they were getting close to this Fort Bannister if their pace was calculated correctly. A few mole rats had scurried next to them, but thankfully, Neal had provided them with a Wasteland Survival Guide, which carried a mole rat repellant stick. The book was by a Moira Brown. Unsurprisingly, Neal was listed as her research assistant. What didn't Neal do with his time out here? Amata kept her eyes on the horizon as they crested the hill. Amata heard a strange beeping sound and instantly leapt backwards. An explosion filled with shrapnel whipped through the air. Luckily, it didn't have a very wide blast radius and no one was injured. Amata was a bit scratched up, though she considered herself lucky. Everyone seemed to be pointing their weapons ahead of them. As the dust cleared a group of armored mercs approached them. Their armor was not matching, but they were armed to the teeth. A bald man with a goatee scowled at them. His voice was raspy and harsh as he spoke, "I know a vaultie when I see one. You must be the one's Reilly's expecting."

Christine stepped forward and nodded at the man, "Jericho? Good to see you're not missing with the rest of them."

Jericho's frown lines became all the more pronounced as he squinted at Christine in confusion.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he demanded. A few muffled gasps could be heard from various vault dwellers. They weren't accustomed to strong language.

Christine appeared unfazed by his words, "We were just in Megaton a week back. It's a ghost town."

Jericho looked troubled as he crossed his arms and looked down briefly and muttered to himself.

"Follow me." Jericho barked. He waved his hand in a circle above his head, signaling his band of mercs to form a perimeter around the vaulties. They moved at a speedy walk as they headed in the direction of a pre-war fort that must have been hit hard during the Great War. Despite the shambling buildings, the Fort was bustling with mercs and civilians alike. Amata gaped for a moment at the water tower that loomed over the facility. It appeared to have cracks and holes in it, so Amata doubted it held any water. Even to her untrained eye, Amata guessed there were probably snipers nested in there. The metallic remains and shells of pre war cars were lined around the fence, in some places the fence was opaque, being welded with the scrap metal. Sentry posts were elevated to see over the chain link and razor wire topped fences. There was one facing each direction, keeping vigilant watch of the horizon. The main gate was braced by two large metal sheets that looked to have been scavenged. Amata could see mercs and simple wasters alike moving about the metal cars, stripping the skeletons of their metal and welding them to the fence. It looked like a large-scale operation, similar to the walls around Megaton.

A darkly complected woman in a faded red jumpsuit approached carrying some sort of duffle bag in her hand. She pushed her spectacles back into place as they slid down her nose. It was a motion of second nature. The woman in the red jumpsuit was escorted by two heavily armed mercs. Both of them wore the same armor as Amata. One of the mercs was a large woman with tan skin and a very butch haircut. Adding to her G.I. Jane get up the woman toted a rather impressive machine gun of some sort. It looked heavy. Amata wasn't the best with weaponry. The other was a man with sandy tan and bronze colored flat top cut. He carried the shotgun loosely on his shoulder, showing he saw no threat in the scared vault dwellers. Neither of them said anything right away. They seemed to be taking a head count. Amata had already done the same. Everyone was accounted for.

Jericho began to open the metal fence, followed by the vaulties. His mercs disassembled and shuffled off towards the buildings. Once Amata was in the facility, she noticed numerous tents set up along the facility grounds. She could see some of the mercs were set up there, other tents showed no signs of inhabitants. She had a gut feeling that this was where her people would be set up.

She heard the man in green armor clear his throat.

"You must be Amata."

Amata nodded and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Making their trek without incident was not something Amata anticipated.

"Yes. It seems even the vaults aren't safe anymore."

The man scoffed, "Got that right," he appeared to be appraising the vaulties for moment and biting his lip. They didn't appear to meet his specs, judging by his expression, but he said nothing on it.

"The name's Butcher," he said, appear to ignore the glances he received, "That's what they call me anyway."

Amata nodded.

The woman in the red jumpsuit moved from behind the two mercs.

"I'm the doctor around here, if anyone needs a patching up. The name's Red," she said extending her hand. Her voice was charmingly husky. Amata found herself smiling at her as she shook the woman's hand.

"You're from vault 101, right?" Red asked.

She received a number of nods from the vaultie crowd.

"The Lone Wanderer was born there, if the stories are to be believed."

She seemed a little surprised at the meek nods from the vault dwellers. She shrugged it off and smiled at them all and headed off towards the main buildings. She waved at a Mister Gusty, which surprisingly appeared to respond before it jettisoned past her and appeared to head on a patrol route.

"Our leader, Reilly is waiting for you, Amata. Come with me. As for the rest of you, Brick will help you get you settled into your tents."

The burly woman clipped the massive machine gun onto her back and headed in the direction of the tents with a wave to follow.

"Don't bother her about the name," Butcher warned the vaulties, "People who tease her about it tend to end up riddled with holes."

He smiled when he saw the nervous glances. He then took off toward the main building with Amata in tow.

Amata watched carts filled with ammunition and supplies roll past busily, the workers all gave the Reilly's Ranger, Butcher, a curt nod or a hello as they passed. It took Amata a moment to realize it, but these workers were refugees. Reilly's Rangers provided these people food and asylum and in return, they maintained the fort. She watched some of the mercs practicing live fire on a dirt embankment with wooden targets standing against them. A few others were sparring or working out.

This fort was preparing for war. Amata could feel it.

Neal moved carefully, even though hidden to the naked eye. He decided to forgo entering through the main gate, but to instead disrupt the turret in hopes that he could avoid direct conflict. He remembered Gallows messing with the Enclave turret's combat inhibitors. But it was difficult to tamper with them without being detected. Neal's stealth was nowhere near Gallows' but he decided it was worth a try. He strafed along the wall and drew his combat knife. He stopped short of the turret and held his breath as it 'looked' his way. When the robot rotated the other way he dug his knife into the back of the robot. The opening at the back was its weak point. There was little protection for the cords that ran up the back. The robot made a small beeping noise as it's combat inhibitor was turned off. Neal slid between the gap in the fence and the robot, it was a tight squeeze but he managed to do it without making too much noise. The robot whipped the its left too late to spot Neal and resumed its scans.

Neal took a steadying breath and assessed his surroundings. There was an old military truck parked facing the fort. Crouching lower, Neal could see a sandbag sentry nest on the other side of it with two guards sitting in chairs behind it. Another guard stood at the gate opening. There was a blue prewar car sitting in the corner of the fence to his left. That could have provided him with some cover if he needed. He doubted he would need it, given that he had wrecked the friend/foe module on the nearest turret and the patrol was headed that way fairly soon. He also was counting on the hidden sniper to take care of any loose ends. Neal moved over to the skeleton of the truck and checked the perimeter. There was one soldier to his left. He did not wear power armor like the more seasoned outcasts did. Neal could see numerous openings in the man's armor, especially in the neck. The police style helmet he wore with the plexiglass visor did little to protect him, sacrificing his face for more peripheral vision. Neal decided that man was still in John's range and killing someone in the open like that would only succeed in making his presence known. Neal moved towards the hood of the truck and checked the indicator on his stealth boy. He had about sixty seconds until the field went down. Neal shouldered his assault rifle and checked the silencer. He slid as far to the edge of the truck as he could before turning and firing three precise shots to both of the guards as they zoned out in their chairs. Both of them fell to the ground with a thud. Glancing to the guard by the gates, Neal cursed as he realized the sound had caught the guard's attention.

Just as the guard was about to move, the crack of a rifle pierced the air and the guard died where he stood. Neal used the distraction to bolt for the doors, he could hear the zaps of laser fire. He moved back into a half crouch as he pressed the doors open as quietly as he could. He spotted two more guards. Still, he saw none wearing power armor. They had to be VanGraffs' people. He was surprised that they had managed to take such well-fortified stronghold. The Outcasts were no slouches. Part of him was relieved, the other was dreading what he was about to see as he moved deeper into the base. Neal stood and fired on the mercs and clipped one in the shoulder while killing the other with a bullet to the head. The wounded merc managed to duck around the corner and keep ahold of his weapon. Neal took off sprinting towards the merc, seizing the opportunity of his enemy's retreat. Neal hoisted his rifle above his shoulder, the butt facing outward. As he came around the corner he drove the rifle butt into the guard's face, shattering his nose against his face shield. Firing from the hip, Neal put two bullets in the man's gut. He gurgled and struggled as he fell to his knees, but the merc didn't take long to go.

Neal moved deeper into the facility. He was slightly surprised he couldn't hear any gunfire from outside. Neal reminded himself to stay frosty as he made his way down the stairwell, checking his corners automatically. After a few flights of nothing, Neal came upon the lower part of the barracks. He remembered this portion especially well. It was where he 'found' his armor. He could barely see around him since the lights were dimmed. He thought better of switching the night vision in his eyeplates on. The lights must turn on somewhere. Neal groped along the wall, feeling for a light switch. He felt an indent in the wall, very similar to the light switches in vaults. His hand hovered over the switch as he listened intently. He could hear footsteps in the room that held the Anchorage simulation. Squinting into the dimness, Neal could faintly see the fortified metal door to his right, small fractions of light from the other side of the door managed to peek through the cracks. He decided flicking the lights wasn't the best course of action and quietly stepped towards the steel door. Once he disengaged the lock, the metal screech of the falling door nulls the element of surprise.

Neal slid his assault rifle into his right shoulder and reached forward with his left arm and loosened the gear of the metal door. The door screeched and thudded into its retracted position. Three mercs stood in the room, they were all in leisurely stances as if they weren't expecting anyone or had no standing orders. They did not raise their weapons despite being startled.

"We were beginning to wonder when you'd show up." One of them said impatiently.

Neal was a bit confused, but he pretended as though he had anticipated this.

"I was a bit preoccupied. I had to make sure you were up for the task, my employer wasn't convinced you were." Neal said, his weapon still trained on them.

The merc he was conversing with, who appeared to be the head of the operation. The leader was not aware of the fate of his comrades, or perhaps he didn't care. Sometimes Neal forgot the lack of loyalty in merc bands.

"The job has been done, but of course, you want proof." The leader said. Neal gave the man a good once over. He was a foreboding presence, tall and strong he embodied the enforcer role perfectly. His jaw was strongly set and his brow shadowed his eyes ominously. This was the one John had told him about, Jean Baptiste Cutting. He could see why John regretted not simply killing him when he had the chance. They were here to remedy that. Two birds with one stone, they had decided. The Outcasts and the VanGraff's most valuable muscle would be gone before noon.

Jean Baptiste waved for the other two mercs to remain put, while he lead Neal off into the dormitories of Fort Indpendence.

Jean Baptiste spoke as he walked, outlining their work here.

"I met with our…mutual employer not too long ago. It seems everything has gone according to plan." Jean waited for the Wanderer's nod before continuing.

"I can see why we were chosen for this task. 'The Outcasts' as you call them were the toughest we've faced in a long time. They did not attempt to negotiate or beg for mercy. They fought to the death to protect their precious technology." The condescension was obvious in Jean's tone.

"They clung to the old ways, that was why they separated themselves from the main chapter. Similar to that of the Mojave Chapter." Neal added.

Jean nodded, "From what I hear, they're mostly extinct in the west."

Neal knew the Mojave Chapter was no more, but the entire west going dark was a revelation he had yet to hear.

"Most of the power armor in use at the Citadel we got from here."

Neal knew there had to have been a lot of mercs to take most of the power armor, especially if none of the mercs here wore it.

"Where do you get so many bodies from? I've only seen five or six at Silver Rush when I was in the strip." Neal asked.

"Most of them are from California. Their mostly ex-NCR looking for higher pay and better benefits." Jean said, "We also have a lot more force in California than we…did… in the strip." Jean said bitterly, referring to their loss of establishment in New Vegas.

Jean and Neal continued up a flight of stairs and down a dimmed hallway he had never seen before. Neal glanced into the opened doorways and saw numerous empty dormitories. He began to feel dread rising from his gut, he knew what came next, but he schooled the self-loathing from his features. Each footstep he took seemed to echo in his head, he felt his breath shorten the closer he and Jean got to the room at the end of the hallway. Finally, Jean stopped and looked at Neal expectantly. Neal nodded, keeping his expression neutral. _It was the only way._

The door slid open the atrocity that lay before him hit him like super sledge. There were bodies, dozens of them, piled up in the center of the room. It wasn't just soldiers piled in there, Neal struggled to keep his impassive expression at the dead eyes of children staring up at him. Neal was no stranger to collateral damage, but his work never involved ordering the execution of children… until now. He had hoped there would be another way. That the Outcasts kept their families elsewhere, but he knew deep down they did not. Jean stepped through the scattered bodies without an ounce of respect, kicking up a twinge of rotted flesh. Neal did not blanche at this. He was far too accustomed to the smell than he wished. Neal recognized some of the corpses, but a few he noticed, were also absent. Jean reached toward a male corpse at the top of the mound of death. He reached for a male body that was lying atop the pile, legs askew and torso bent backwards as it spanned down the morbid incline. Whoever he was, he was clad only in an undershirt and boxers.

Jean grabbed the man's undershirt and hoisted the stiff body up so Neal could see the man's face. It was Protector Casdin. Although Casdin was a conceited bastard that was stuck in the old ways of the Brotherhood, he was a hell of a soldier, and force that would be hard to replace.

"Recognize this guy?" Jean asked.

Neal nodded in affirmation. He could faintly hear footsteps coming down the hall.

"Alright, you did the job. My employer will be pleased. You'll get your payment as soon as we get back to the Citadel."

If Jean suspected anything going sideways, he didn't show it.

"Okay." He said.

Immediately after the words left the merc's mouth, the Courier whipped around the corner with his .44 drawn and fired immediately. The bullet tore straight through the large man's eye and carried through his skull and into the wall behind him, carrying a spray of brains and blood with it. Jean Baptiste Cutting fell to the ground without so much as a gasp, he was dead before he hit the floor.

John spun the pistol around his finger, before holstering it and spitting on the cooling corpse. "That's for Cass, you son of a bitch."

Neal gave John an amused nod, momentarily forgetting the morbid scene before him.

"Nice."

John let out a small, dark laugh, "Bastard didn't know what hit him."

Neal looked back at the bodies, strewn all over the storage room. He thought of Protector McGraw and Specialist Olin. They were the only Outcasts who had fought at his side during the chaos that ensued when he opened he completed the Anchorage simulation and opened the previously locked armory. Both were killed in the chaotic muntiny, but not before Olin picked up the flamer and took three down with her. It was impressive for a scribe, especially one as thinly built as her.

Neal and John both made their way out of the building, policing their brass and making sure they left no traces of their presence. They both exited the building and began towards Fort Bannister.

Sarah had risen early that morning and began towards Fort Independence. She knew she was getting close. She kept a low profile as she crested the hill. Scanning the area around her she couldn't see any guards to speak of. Sarah squinted at the peculiarity and began to look for a good spot to observe. She found a spot that was shaded by the bushes and had a perfect view of the base, a great spot for a sniper's nest. Sarah moved over towards it. She instantly noticed signs of use and they appeared fresh. There were two sets of footprints and mark from where someone lay prone. There also were two indentations where a bi-pod had been placed, presumably those that were attached to sniper rifles.

Sarah moved around the marks carefully and took a good look at the Outcast base. She noticed there were a few dark forms that were spread around the facility. After squinting for a minute or two she noticed they weren't moving. Were they bodies?

Sarah decided to make her move towards the facility. As she grew closer, with each step everything became clearer. Whoever these bodies were, whatever faction, they weren't Outcast. That was for sure. Someone else had killed them and she was pretty certain who it was.

**We're getting towards the end my friends. I would also like to thank my newly minted beta, Ben Webster, for his help with not only providing a core character for my master plan, but also providing some great ideas as well! As always, reviews make my day!**


	16. Chapter 16: Emancipation Proclamation

**It's been way too long everyone. Sorry, but unfortunately RL gets in the way. As I've been writing this chapter I've been looking back at this story's humble beginning. Being my first fic, I wasn't exactly sure what would happen. I did change the plot a quite a bit towards the middle of the story. I have definitely noticed how much I've improved throughout this story. As you've noticed, I've changed the title, mostly because I felt like it left the wrong impression (my previous intent for this story has since changed) Enjoy!**

* * *

Fort Bannister was impressive, Amata had to admit. There were few things such as this left in the post apocalyptic world. Where there once had been organization and order now was few and far between. It seemed that world had been nearly completely destroyed. All that was left for the kin of that world, were a lot of questions, pure survival, and pockets of technology responsible for the destruction of its own world.

Still, humans remained and with them the lust for power and control. It was surprising that this attitude still existed even after humanity had succeeded in destroying themselves. Her own father had possessed that lust and it disgusted her. Amata vowed never to let herself fall prey to the same weak mindset.

It was impressive to see people working together again towards a common goal. The vault she had spent all of her life in seemed to only work backwards, bickering and fighting one another. But this complex had an atmosphere to it that she found nowhere else in her travels outside the vault's safety. Everyone's place here was earned, not guaranteed. The militaristic sense made her a bit nervous, but trained guns were a necessity. In order to live there, they had to do something towards the good of the settlement. They shouldered their weight of the load without protest and didn't expect things to be handed to them. Her 'beloved' vaulties would do well to learn from the citizens of the fort.

Amata wondered who this 'Reilly' was. Whoever it was, he was followed loyally and that made quite the impression. Amata ascended the circling stairs towards what she assumed was an officer of center of operations, lead by the merc named 'Butcher'. Butcher was quiet, but he was polite enough to not make the short walk uncomfortable.

As they topped the stairs, Butcher moved over towards a metal door and tapped on it. The sound of rustling papers could be heard before the locking mechanism clicked and the door folded into the floor. Inside stood a tall red haired woman in the trademark green merc's armor. Her arms were folded across her chest as she looked Amata over. There was hint of foreknowledge in her eyes that made Amata nervous.

"You must be Amata." Reilly mused.

Amata nodded, half expecting Reilly to reach out a hand to shake.

"So it appears that time has come, unfortunately." Reilly said with the slightest bit of dread. Amata wasn't sure if the dread was directed towards her or something else. She continued with caution. Even if Reilly treated her with contempt, she was the best hope for the vault dwellers as well as numerous other lives. She was a friend of Neal's after all, so she couldn't be that bad, right?

"How much do you know?" Amata asked, wondering who was the better informed of the two. She noticed Butcher had left the two alone and closed the door behind him.

"I'll bring you up to speed," Reilly said simply. She motioned for Amata to take a seat across from her.

"The Wanderer is a friend of mine. He came to me first when he came back from the west. He was very worried…about the future and about his state of mind."

Amata shifted in her seat and watched Reilly carefully, hoping to pick up what made the strong persona she carried. She could see why Neal chose to confide in her. The redhead carried an air of both toughness and assertiveness. The tidy operations room was a testament to her organizational skills.

"In the fits of paranoia that followed his trip to Virginia, Neal began calling in his favors. At first, he wasn't sure what exactly he was up against. He just had this feeling. I learned not to take his concerns lightly since they usually amount to something. So, he built up a network of powers that if used correctly could defeat the Legion. When we first discussed his plans he seemed unsure of what role he played in this, but after his trip out west, he seemed to have it all figured out." Reilly said, glancing down at her hands for a moment.

"For a long time Neal was haunted by the things he's encountered and choices he's made in the wasteland. He knew sooner or later his actions would have consequences and that the peace, or at least the closest to peace we've had, wouldn't last. Up until he left for the west…I think he felt isolated, even among his allies. But then again, I've never met anyone quite like him."

Amata folded her arms loosely at her abdomen, "Whenever we discussed these plans he's made, he always made it sound like he wouldn't be here when they do show up. Do you mind filling me in?"

Reilly nodded, clearly expecting this question to come up.

"Neal plans to take a more direct approach. While we stay back and protect DC, he's going with the Courier."

Amata gave her a puzzled look, "Where exactly did the Courier come into play? Why is he here?"

"For all intents and purposes, John is Neal's doppelganger. The Courier is as famous a name in the west as the Lone Wanderer is in the east. At least that's what I'm told. I'm not sure what they plan to do after we take back the Citadel, but they won't be staying here any longer than they have to. Judging by the miracles these two can pull off, they're planning something big. Even bigger than what's been set up here."

Reilly paused for a moment and looked past Amata's right shoulder towards the door.

"He's here," Butcher's voice came from behind her.

Reilly's mouth twitched into a tiny smirk but it left when she looked back at Amata. She waited for the door to close before she spoke.

"I know you've probably noticed his behavior has been a bit strange," Reilly waited for Amata to nod, "Well, putting it in simple terms… Neal is experiencing memory loss as well as a hallucination or two. He went to a surgeon in Rivet City and was told that the effects of his memory loss were only going to get worse," Reilly's face was grave, "Maybe even permanent."

The merc captain's words hung in the air as they sunk into Amata's mind. _Permanent._

* * *

Sarah had followed the trail of dead mercs into Fort Independence. She had yet to see a single Outcast, live or dead. As much as she hated them with every fiber of her being, Sarah couldn't help but feel uneasy. It seemed Burke's evil hooks were dug deeper in the DC wasteland than she thought. The Outcasts she saw at the Citadel weren't Outcasts at all it seemed. That would explain why her father was still alive. If the Outcasts were in any position of power, Elder Lyons would mostly likely be dead, sooner or later.

Sarah entered the Fort only to find signs of a battle smeared all over the place. Blood stains lined the walls, floors, and even the ceilings. Bullet holes and laser scorches were at every conceivable angle. The Outcasts had fought hard to save their home. Sarah found it peculiar the bloodstains seemed to predate the bodies she discovered out front. The mercs were only a dead a few hours. These stains were dried and a dark rusty color. Sarah kept her laser rifle up at all times as she moved down the stairs towards the Outcasts prized possession.

This was a place Sarah had never thought she would return to. Fort Independence… she had been only a child when her father and Casdin had their falling out. She had forgotten this place until now, but as she stood in it, it was just like she remembered it (sans the gore and destruction).

She found the mysterious pre-war device untouched. In bold yellow spray paint, the machine read, 'OPERATION: ANCHORAGE'

She remembered this now. Neal had discovered a way for it to be used. His pip-boy was the key to working it properly. The Outcasts had turned on him, not that she was exactly surprised by that. A secret armory had opened, Sarah turned to see it in the flickering artificial light. An armor stand stood empty. All of the shelves were cleared and even gathering dust. She knew Neal had gotten his armor from here, it was his reward.

Sarah made her way back up the stairs to the where the dormitories were. She was surprised Operation: Anchorage was not the object Burke was after.

Sarah found the dormitory hallway and slowly made her way down it. Her footfalls echoed ominously as she approached a lit room. The closer she got, the more she could smell _that_ stench. The smell of death.

* * *

Amata and Reilly followed Butcher towards the gates. She noticed Reilly's senior rangers were all gathered at the entrance. Amata watched as Reilly's pace quickened to meet the Wanderer.

The smile on Neal's face when he saw them appraoch was a genuine one, but Amata could see that ever-present sadness in his expressions. It made sense now. He carried a great load and yet at the end of the day, he may not even remember those he was fighting for.

Neal carried the torso of his power armor in one hand and his helmet in the other. He set them both down and went around exchanging forearm bumps and jokes with the rangers. When he got to Reilly he smiled at her, reaching out and clasping her outstretched hand. They pulled each other into a friendly hug.

"Glad you could make it, Neal."

Neal chuckled, "Always a pleasure, Reilly."

He looked over at Butcher and nodded, "Keeping her in check, Butcher?"

Butcher laughed, "Yeah, gotta make sure this new power doesn't go to her head. Already big enough as it is."

He winced mid-laugh when Reilly thumped him.

"You put him up to this?" Reilly said, feigning anger and jabbing a thumb at Butcher. Suddenly, Reilly didn't seem so intimidating to Amata. She did remind her of the Sentinel, except more laid back and less bossy, Amata thought bitterly.

Amata watched as Red and a few other refugees made their way to the excitement. They all had smiles on their faces. Amata could see a puzzled expression flicker across Neal's face before he forced a smile onto his face.

Red was the one who spoke up.

"Wanderer, it's been too long." She said happily.

Reilly had apparently seen the initial look on Neal's face, for she spoke up to cover for him.

"It's probably good you haven't seen him in a long time. You're either desperate or a dead man."

A number of people laughed.

Neal's lips quavered in a forced smile. He stared at her blankly.

"I'm Red. From Big Town remember? You saved me and Shorty from the mutants." Red seemed to be patient, perhaps coming from her years of working as doctor. Red appeared to spot something, she raised a hand and pointed at a red bandana tied around Neal's arm.

"I gave you that bandana after you saved us." Neal stared down at the bandana tied around his arm just above the elbow.

He knew it meant something. He always took it with him as a reminder. A reminder of what, he wasn't sure, until now. This Red was someone he had saved. A memento that reminded him he wasn't completely heartless.

Neal felt his attention being drawn to someone just beyond the refugees.

His mysterious benefactor stood with his signature smirk, holding the legendary .44 in one hand. His fedora and sunglasses shading his eyes.

"Don't forget why you're here, Wanderer."

Next to the mysterious stranger stood Harden Simms and Lucy West. Lucy appeared to be sheltering him from something, they both looked desperate and terrified.

Neal ignored the expectant looks for the moment and turned to John.

"We better get a move on. Julian should have met up with the Temple by now. He'll be moving toward the next task shortly, which means we need to hurry if we're gonna maintain the timeline."

John nodded, "I only need a few minutes to grab some ammo and I'll be five by five."

Neal looked to Reilly who had a thoughtful expression on her face.

"The VanGraff's mercs are no slacks." Neal provided.

Reilly nodded, "No sense throwing the recruits at 'em. I think I'll bring Jericho for this one. He's been itching for action. Besides, Megaton's his neck of the wastes."

Neal agreed.

"Since we're dealing with friendlies in the crossfire on this one, you're gonna have to sit this one out Brick." Reilly ordered.

The burly woman cursed under her breath and crossed her arms.

"Don't worry, Brick. We have something special planned for you on our next op." Neal added with a smirk. Brick's face lit up, causing the rest of the Rangers to laugh.

Reilly turned to the youngest looking Ranger. She motioned for him to step forward.

"You remember Macready, Little Lamplight's biggest prick."

Macready snorted in contempt but laughter was in his eyes.

Neal clasped hands with the potty-mouthed teenager.

"'bout fuckin' time, Wanderer." Macready said with a smirk.

"Good to see you working with the good guys, RJ."

Macready shrugged, "With Big Town gone, we didn't have much of a choice. I like it here."

"Well, time to save Megaton. Butcher, Macready, Jericho, Dusty, pretty up." Reilly ordered, her eyes lingered on Donovan.

"Don, you better stay here. I want you to help get the new vaulties settled in."

"Yes, ma'am."

Neal's eyes lingered on the merc named Dusty that stood near Macready. He swore he had seen him before, but all he found was a blank spot in his memory. He watched the mercs return the barracks before he addressed Amata.

"Good to see you kept your armor. You'll need it."

Amata gave him a surprised look, "I'm going with?"

"You need some field experience if you're going to convince people to leave their homes and live in an overcrowded base."

"Or the vault." Amata suggested.

Neal nodded, "That's why I chose you for the job." He grimaced at his own words. "I don't want it to sound like I'm forcing you to do this… It's just… you're good with people. You're better with people than anyone I've ever met."

Amata was humbled, but she called to mind their failed relationship, her relationship with her father, and the general clusterfuck of politics in the vault. But if Neal was trusting her with this, he must have really seen something.

"I'll do my best."

"It's all you can do." He offered. Amata got the impression he was saying it to himself as well.

"How would you feel about using a rifle?"

* * *

"_Sentinel?" Sarah could hear a faint voice calling her._

"_She's awake!" The voice exclaimed._

_She couldn't yet force her eyelids to open and her ears rang as though a grenade had blown near her._

_As her senses began to clear, Sarah could hear a redundant beeping. It sounded like it was coming from a machine._

_She struggled to move from her prone position. Her body felt like it hadn't moved in ages._

_What she did know was that the purifier had turned on… they had done it. She and the Lone Wanderer…Neal…he was dead. She had watched him die in the same place as his father. There had been an explosion…_

_So where was she? Was she dead?_

_Sarah's eyes slowly opened and she blinked rapidly until the fog cleared._

_She saw her father standing next to her as she lie on the Citadel med bay examining table. Sarah's hands traced over an IV in her left wrist and a heart rate monitor attached at her middle finger._

_She strained to lift herself onto her elbows as she looked over at her smiling father._

"_Dad? What happened?" Sarah asked in a raspy voice. She coughed, noticing how dry her throat was._

_As if he read her mind, Elder Lyons passed Sarah a bottle of water, Sarah drank the whole thing without hesitation. Then after a moment, stared down at the bottle in confusion._

"_What is this?"_

"_Aqua Pura." Elder Lyons said with a smile._

"_No shit." Sarah said in surprise._

"_You did it." Owyn said proudly, that trademark twinkle in his blue eyes._

_Sarah shook her head solemnly, "No, _he _did it," Neal's death starting to sink in. Elder Lyons nodded, knowing of whom she spoke._

"_What happened?" Sarah asked again._

"_When the purifier was activated, there was an explosion from the radiation spike." Elder Lyons said matter-of-factly._

"_You were knocked out cold, the Pride found you two and brought you here."_

_Sarah's brow stitched together. She had seen him die._

"_Us two?"_

_Elder Lyons smiled that all knowing smile again. The one that frequently drove Sarah crazy, "Yes, Neal survived as well."_

"_How?"_

_Owyn took pity on his daughter. He was throwing a lot at her._

"_He is resistant to radiation. One could even say he thrives in it. Rothchild believes that is how he survived. You'll have to thank you team when you see them. They might have saved your life." Owyn patted Sarah's shoulder._

"_I'm proud of you, Sarah. Your mother would be too," his eyes glistened for a moment, then they returned to his usual demeanor, "I'll let you rest." He said with a smile._

_Elder Lyons folded his arms behind his back as he made his way out. This was a sign he was deep in thought. Sarah had learned that early on. She just had one more thing to ask, despite her growing exhaustion._

"_Where is he then?"_

_Elder Lyons gave her a firm look, "What he does best."_

_Something about what he said made her feel uneasy._

* * *

Neal, John, Amata, lie prone on a hillside. All three were examining the field before them. The mercs had created a camp in the remains of Moonbeam Outdoor Cinema. The large billboard that had once served as the projector screen served as a good place to get out of the sun. It was also a very defensible position, from three sides anyways.

Megaton's residents were herded into the center of the makeshift tent. The slavers were VanGraff's mercs, but both the Courier and the Wanderer knew who was paying them for this cargo run.

"Okay. Looks like we're going to have to ambush them on all sides. John we're going to need a distraction to get close without them alerting."

John smiled like the devil, "I know just the thing."

"Amata, stay here for now. If you think you can sneak some of them out without getting killed, jump in. Don't hesitate to use your weapon." His voice was firm, but the disdain was absent in his voice this time around. Perhaps things were starting to change. Or he was forgetting. She wasn't sure if that was good thing or not.

"Everyone check your targets, remember why we're here." Reilly said firmly.

"Macready you head left with Jericho. Butcher and I will take the opposite side."

Which left Neal to take the furthest side on his own. He pulled out what looked like an earphone and put it into his ear, instead of his usual helmet. He tapped it so everyone could see. Reilly's Rangers followed suit. John put on his scary looking helmet, which looked to be equipped with a radio as well. The courier reached over and handed Amata one as well. She could hear the comm crackle to life.

"Alright everyone," Reilly's voice hummed in their ears, "Let's hit the bastards where it hurts."

* * *

_Sarah woke up again in the med-bay, or the closest thing they had to it._

_She felt a better than she had before._

_Glade and Dusk stood near her table, waiting patiently to be addressed. _

"_Hey," she said uncomfortably. She didn't like her unit, or any brother in arms to see her like this._

"_Sentinel." They both responded happily._

_Dusk's arm was in a sling and he looked banged up. Sarah swore he was a goner, but she was glad she was wrong. Glade didn't look so hot either._

"_You guys look like I feel." Sarah jabbed._

_Both laughed._

"_Good to see you awake." Glade said, a hint of protectiveness in his voice. Glade was like a big brother to Sarah. The one she talked with the most. Dusk was probably her best friend. There were some things men just couldn't understand about women, even soldier women. Dusk was a lot of fun when they were (rarely) allowed to take time off._

"_So, how long was I out?"_

_Both looked uncomfortable to be the bearer of the news. After a moment of silence, Glade spoke up._

"_It's been almost a month."_

_Sarah's jaw fell agape._

"_A month?"_

_Kodiak nodded._

"_4 weeks?!"_

_Both Dusk and Glade smiled, trying not to laugh, but failing._

"_How is everyone holding up?" Sarah asked, curious about the status of her unit._

"_Been better, Sentinel. We lost Vargas on the assault on the purifier."_

_Sarah felt a lump welling in her stomach. Vargas was just about to retire from active duty…_

_The mournful silence lasted a few minutes._

"_What about the rest of the unit?"_

"_The Pride's been split up since you went under. We've been busy. We launched an attack on a satellite relay station. Tristan headed that attack. They still managed to get a satellite uplink and take down liberty prime. We still wasted the place. The Wanderer did find some data on where they've been hiding. He's becoming more and more scarce these days." Glade said._

_Sarah was reeling to catch up with everything she'd missed._

"_What do you mean by that?" Sarah said after a moment._

"_What? About the Wanderer?" Glade asked. Sarah nodded._

"_Well after he recovered that data, he's been gone almost constantly. Every time we do see him, he's gone shortly after. The Elder's been using him more and more." Glade said, rubbing his balding head._

"_I heard he took out Old Olney. Found a Tesla Coil or something like that. Must've been the data he gave to Rothchild that lead him there. I have no idea how he got out of there without a scratch…The Enclave somehow has the ability to control Deathclaws." Dusk looked just as shocked as Sarah felt._

"_But he's made time to come and visit everyone and make sure they're holding up okay. He seemed especially worried about you, but we all were. We were beginning to think you weren't gonna wake up."_

_Sarah was flattered everyone was so concerned about her, although she didn't want them to. It was only natural._

_Sarah finally sat up and began to stretch her limbs out. They felt a lot more limber than the previous day._

"_So what's the current status of the war?"_

"_Well, right now we're waiting for the Wanderer to call in about his current op."_

_Dusk continued the inform, "Right now, he's sneaking in to the Enclave base at Adams AFB to blow it up on the inside. He's going to hack the orbital strike and send it back down on the base and turn those fuckers to dust."_

"_They sent him to do that _alone_?" Sarah said incredulously._

"_Yes, ma'am." Glade said, "He did take those mutant friends of his with him. The ghoul and the super mutant. The dog too."_

_Sarah still couldn't process how insane that sounded. Even thought it was the most prolific wrecking crew in the wasteland. How were they going to get out of the place in time before an orbital strike? Was her father intentionally trying to get the Wanderer killed? Was Neal insane, or hoping to die?_

_Sarah hoisted herself to her feat shakily. With the help of Glade an Dusk she was able to make an appearance for the Pride. The whole Citadel was in better spirits with her back in the land of the living._

* * *

Amata connected her pip-boy frequency to the one everyone else was using. Apparently Reilly's people had acquired pip-boys from an abandoned vault. She used the binoculars John gave her and watched the chaos unfold. It was her job to be the eyes on since John was focusing on his sniping duties.

Macready and Jericho made their way from the left side of the encampment. They were taking cover behind some rocks about 50 yards away. The chatter was back and forth, frankly, it was hard for Amata to keep up. She watched as Reilly and Butcher moved in on the right. They had to keep their distance, as there wasn't nearly as much cover for them. They approached from the old road that cut into the hill not too far from where Amata and John were perched.

"Team 1 in position, but we've gotta keep our distance. Patrols are frequent here. Status, everyone?" Reilly called in quietly.

"Team 2 in position." Macready's scratchy voice reported.

"Team 3 is holding. We've got a sniper looking at us." Neal's voice came hushed like Reilly's.

"Overwatch in position. We've got eyes on the sniper." Amata reported.

"Across they way, under the screen." Amata whispered to John. John gave her a thumbs up.

Amata got back on the radio, "Okay we're going to deploy the distraction."

As a VanGraff merc moved towards a peculiar clanking sound, he checked his surroundings warily. He was expecting to get jumped, or maybe one of the slaves had gotten loose. As he ventured closer towards the sound, he noticed that one of his compatriots was investigating the source of the sound as well.

After a bit of searching the mercs found a toy monkey with tiny brass cymbals in his hands, clanking away mechanically. The two sighed in irritation, only to be blown to gory smithereens moments later.

Amata gave John a disturbed look when she heard the Courier laughing.

"That's just sick!"

"No, that's just priceless."

John only continued to laugh under his mask. Keeping his eyes trained down his scope as he took aim on the sniper and fired, the sniper barely moved, Amata wasn't even sure he hit him.

"Good shot, Overwatch. Team 3 moving up." She heard Neal remark over the comm.

Amata watched as Reilly and Butcher took out a merc patrolling the road.

Macready and Jericho took cover behind the ammo crates stocked behind the tents. Everything was going well so far.

As if she jinxed it, Amata watched as more mercs began pouring in from all directions. It was obviously a trap. The mercs had been expecting and ambush, and had effectively reversed it. There were ten in all, plus the remaining patrols. Somewhere around 15 were scattered all over the hillside.

She could see some of them fan out, while five remained in a semi circle around the slaves. Megaton's residents barely moved. They looked subdued or drugged. Something was off. Amata twisted the binoculars and zoomed in on a boy that knelt tiredly. He looked like Harden Simms, the Sheriff's son. It made Amata angry to see him this way. Finally, she figured out what the problem was. There was a thick black band around his neck. It looked like a dog collar.

"Neal?" Amata called over the radio.

"I'm here."

"It looks like the slaves have some sort of collar on their necks. Do you know anything about it."

"Shit."

There was a brief silence before Jericho came over the radio.

"Those motherfuckers!" he cursed viciously.

"Keep it together, Jericho. We gotta lure em out of the camp so Amata can get in." Reilly barked over the comm.

Jericho resisted, "No! Those are my people!"

"Jericho, cool it! We can't help them if we don't get those damned controls now keep your head and kill the mercs." Macready asserted firmly.

"Fine." Was all he said.

Neal came back over the radio. "Amata!"

Amata watched as he and Dusty dispatched two mercs, then ducked behind cover. The mercs were slowly beginning to fan out. But five remained dug in around the slaves.

"Get down here and get those things off! Everyone keep an eye out for someone with a mesmetron. They have the detonation switch. Looks like a terminal with stock."

Amata took a steadying breath and slid down the hillside on one knee, keeping her other leg out to steady her. Amata tumbled a bit and rolled for a few feet, dropping her weapon. She ignored the scrapes and burns and scrambled for her laser rifle on her hands and knees. She remembered to check her surroundings before she took cover behind a tent. She watched as Neal was embroiled in a firefight with the remaining mercs in the camp. She could still hear the gunfire behind her as Team 1 and 2 tried to lure the brunt of the force out.

"Jericho's hit!" Macready called hastily over the comm.

"Team 1 is tasked." Reilly said tersely. The worry in her voice didn't go unnoticed though.

Amata kept cautiously peering around the tent, trying to look for an opening. She was shaking and trying her hardest not to be spotted. Her mind was racing a million miles a minute. Then something caught Amata's eye. The woman had a strange looking device clipped on her belt. She was preoccupied with keeping the slaves away from Neal and Dusty.

Slowly, she began to get more and more desperate. Amata wanted to report the location of the switch to Neal or John, but in doing so she would blow her cover. She watched as the woman began to grab the mesmetron. Amata knew it was too late to try and swipe it. She knew the woman was hidden as she crouched behind the tents. John couldn't possibly see her.

Amata realized what she had to do. She took a deep, shaky breath and began to aim her laser rifle at the woman. Her hands were shaking so bad she couldn't get a bead on her.

The next few moments seemed to go in slow motion. Amata felt adrenaline jolt through her body as she steadied her gun and fired a laser beam straight into the woman's abdomen. The merc screamed and fell limply to the ground.

Amata felt cold for a moment, all she could do was stare. She had just killed someone. The woman's intent was obviously evil, but it still did not make Amata fell any better.

The sounds of gunfire and screams of death rang hollowly in her ears.

Amata snapped out of her trance when she watched the mesmetron clatter to the ground.

Amata surged forward and grabbed it, despite the fact she was leaving cover and throwing herself in the thick of things. She glanced over at the Megaton citizens who were still staring off into space glassy eyed.

Amata began to fiddle with the mestmetron, searching for a release button. Finally she spotted a switch that turn from stun to release. Amata squeezed the trigger and watched as the black collars fell to the ground. The freed Megaton citizens all sighed almost collectively and rubbed their necks.

Amata checked in on the comm, "The collars have been dropped. Moving them out now."

"Better hurry! A group of them broke off and are headed back you're way." Macready warned over the comm.

"Where the fuck is Butcher!" Macready swore.

"I'm on my way. Where's he hit?"

"In the thigh. Lots of blood."

"Oh don't pass out you pussy." Jericho chastised the youngest Ranger.

Neal was waving covering the civvies, barking out orders through his helmet radio.

"Get them outta here! We'll hold em off." Neal shouted, turning and shooting down a merc.

Amata turned to a blonde woman about her age who was sheltering Harden Simms and his friend, Maggie.

"Head off down that road a ways. It should be safe. I'll be right behind you making sure everyone gets there. Once you get somewhere safe, stop and wait for us to catch up."

The woman nodded and began to lead everyone through the camp. Amata took the lead of a second group of the fleeing Megatonians, as she had begun calling them in her head.

Amata trained her rifle downrange and did her best to keep an eye on her charges at the same time. When they arrived, Amata began taking a count. When she got to the front of the group, Amata noticed the blonde was helping the young man into a sitting position. Her hand momentarily lifted from Harden's leg, and everyone noticed it was covered in blood.

"Harden, you're going to be fine." The woman said, doing her best to calm the whimpering boy. "Where's Doc?" she called out, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

Amata tried to remember who 'Doc' was but it had been a long time since she last visited Megaton.

"He's dead, Lucy." A red-headed woman said. Her hair was cropped short and she looked as haggard as the rest of the freed wasters. A ghoul stood next to her in an almost protective manner, though he said nothing.

"We've got one more hurt here too." The woman, apparently named Lucy, pointed at a man with an eye patch and a peculiar looking goatee. The man appeared to have taken a laser rifle blast to the side.

Amata was struggling to find something to say to them.

"Butcher?" Amata said over the comm. There was silence for a few seconds.

"He's busy right now, what do you need?" Reilly answered rather breathily, obviously preoccupied.

"We've got a few injured over here that could use some attention."

"Keep Butcher on Jericho, I'll see what I can do." Neal's voice came over the radio.

Reilly's radio clicked in affirmation.

John chimed in as well, "We better get moving, Amata. Neal, get everyone patched up and meet up with us at the fort, but don't linger for too long."

Amata wasn't sure what exactly all the hurry was about, but then again she wasn't the most informed person there. She focused on the task at hand.

"The injured should move off to the side here," Amata motioned towards the shoulder of the pre-war road, "Everyone else should file up."

She could hear the dissatisfied murmurs through the crowd.

"We've got help coming for the injured, just be patient. We have to get as many people to safety as possible."

It seemed to have the opposite effect she was intending. A dark-haired girl that looked to be in her early teens had refused to get in line despite the fact that she was uninjured. She was paying equal attention to the boy and the man with the eye patch.

"I won't leave my dad, or Harden, he's my friend." She said firmly to Amata. The girl looked nothing like the injured man, Amata vaguely remembered a man with an adoptive daughter from her travels to trade with Megaton.

"Maggie, go on now. I'll be along shortly." The man with the eye patch told his daughter. She shook her head in protest.

Lucy still continued to keep a hand on Harden's leg, spoke to Amata, "Do you have a medic coming?" The look in her eyes told Amata that Harden wasn't doing so well. Amata grimly noted that his father, the sheriff, was nowhere to be found. These people had been through a lot.

"Yes," Amata said answering Lucy quietly, "The Wanderer is on his way."

Amata noticed a flicker of hope flashed in the eyes of those within earshot.

"I'll wait here with these two, Maggie you go with the others. The Wanderer and I will take care of them. We'll see you soon."

The man with the eye patch smiled at his daughter, "Listen to Lucy, I'll be right behind you, sweetie."

Maggie took one last look at her father, then at Harden and nodded solemnly. She filed in with the rest.

Neal showed up in his usual terrifying power armor. He removed his helmet and pulled out a first aid kit from one of the compartments in his armor.

"Nice to see ya again, Wanderer." The man with the eye patch said.

"Same to you, Billy. Circumstances aside."

Neal looked at Amata and nodded, signaling her to proceed. He looked happy to see the people of Megaton. She could also tell he was tired, but then again, they all were. It still surprised her, she was hard-pressed to recall a time when she'd seen Neal look tired like that.

Amata took her place at the front of the group and waited for John's all clear.

"John? Are we ready to move?" Amata said, placing a finger on her ear piece.

"That's affirm." The Courier responded.

Amata didn't follow, "What?"

"Means yes in radio jabber."

"Oh." Amata said dumbly. She waved a hand signaling the able bodied Megaton residents to follow her towards the fort. She wiped her sweaty palms on her armor and gripped her rifle. Now to get these people somewhere safe. The whole way she walked, Amata still couldn't believe she had killed someone today.

Neal decided that Harden needed his attention more, Billy's laser burn wasn't as much of a direct hit as Harden's was. The young man had a deep wound in his shin, the bone was fractured as well. Neal pulled out a stimpak and injected a few spots around the wound. He then injected a fair amount of med-x to numb the pain some.

Harden whimpered a bit, "Am I gonna die?" he said shakily, trying to stop the tears.

"No, you're going to be just fine, kid. You're a Simms, the toughest of the tough."

Harden nodded weakly.

Neal made eye contact with Lucy West.

"It's so good to see you." Lucy said exhaustedly. Neal smiled at her.

"Can you wrap his wound?" Neal asked.

Lucy nodded.

"Make sure it's tight." He added, moving quickly over to Billy Creel and doing a similar series of treatments.

"Sorry Harden, but this is gonna sting a little bit."

Harden hissed in pain.

"Think you can walk, Billy?" Neal asked.

Billy nodded, "You worry about the kid, I'll be fine."

Neal nodded and stood. He saw that Lucy was done wrapping Harden's leg.

The Wanderer helped Billy to his feet and the moved back to Harden. The teen was strong, but he wasn't in any condition to walk.

"Lucy, can you help Harden onto my back?" Neal said, crouching down in front of Harden. Lucy helped Harden to his feet. She supported the boy as he hopped on foot and jumped onto the Wanderer's back. The Wanderer stood and held Harden up as he rode piggyback style, making sure he didn't bump the afflicted shin. Neal turned to make sure Lucy and Billy were getting on okay. They appeared to be doing just fine, when Lucy gasped. She trotted over to Neal and gently touched his bleeding shoulder.

"You're injured." Lucy said in astonishment.

Neal shook her hand off, "I'll be fine. Moira will cook me up something highly irradiated when I get back and I'll be ok."

Lucy gave him a wary look but didn't say anything.

From behind him Neal could hear Billy, "No wonder you're so hard to kill."

Neal snorted in laughter.

* * *

Amata herded the Megatonians into Fort Bannisters gates. She was impressed when she saw her own people springing into action to help receive the famished wasters. Amata realized then just how exhausted she was, a good rest sounded incredible right now.

Amata decided to wait on that nap. She wanted to make sure the others got back alright.

After 15 minutes of staring off into space, Amata saw a lone armored man approaching. The armor was too light to be Neal's. As the man got bigger and bigger, Amata saw that it was no man approaching, but a blonde woman. Amata felt a lump in her stomach. She looked over at Donovan, the engineer. He appeared confused.

"Do you know who that is?" he asked.

"Yes." Amata said. "That would the Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel. It would be a good idea to let her in without any flak."

Donovan nodded, "You don't have to tell me twice. I better give those guys a heads up."

"Uh, Reilly… It appears Fort Bannister has a visitor."

"Reilly here. Who is this visitor?"

"Amata's telling me it's Sentinel Lyons."

"…shit."

* * *

**I took some liberties with the landscape of the outdoor cinema, but overall, I tried to keep everything consistent. As this story comes to a close, I get more and more excited with the possibilities for a sequel. Though it's kind of hard to plan for such a thing. I'm taking a heavy load of courses this semester so I can't exactly guarantee when the next chapter will be, but I'll do my best. Once again, thanks to my beta Ben Webster for polishing everything up! **

**Sgtranglin: Thanks, I'm glad you enjoy it!**

**Chazzen01: Should you guess the entire ending I would definitely give you credit. And when the sequel comes around, I'll challenge you to guess where it's going again! I might consider a free spoiler, but perhaps it will be for the sequel (which I plan to be much better than this fic).**

**Jarrod Miller: Thank you so much for your review! I'm glad you like my characters! I worked very hard at fleshing them out more than the game did. Also, I didn't even notice the small details I put in there, but I'm glad you noticed them. This sequel I have brewing will connect both games, if you haven't already guessed.**


	17. Chapter 17: A New Breed

Sarah glared up at the watch post that rose over the reinforced fence. Amata and a male merc dressed in green peered down at her. She realized how she must look to them. Judging from the look on the merc's face, she must look half-crazed. Which if she was being honest wasn't far from the truth. Amata's expression was much more trained. She looked questioning, but not afraid. The whimpering vault Overseer and this cautious woman she before her seemed worlds apart. Did she know what Neal had done? Clearly not, that wasn't something the goody-goody would condone. Somehow, Sarah suspected that Amata knew something of what was happening, which was more than what she knew herself. It was angering to sense that her supposed lover was telling more to his ex than to her. Relationship aside, Sarah was far more competent than the soft vaultie. Sarah shook her head to clear the thoughts. She had been thinking herself to death for the last day and a half. Though she was tougher than most, but even the Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel needed a rest.

"Sarah? What are you doing here?" Amata's expression told Sarah that she knew exactly why she was here.

"I think you know why." Sarah paused for a moment to look around at Fort Bannister's impressive new digs. Reilly had really been at it. Sarah noted the swiveling floodlights that were welded to the tops of the walls. They could prove valuable since they could face both inwards and outwards.

"He's not back yet." Amata said simply.

"What? Where else would he be?" Sarah said irritably. She brushed her greasy bangs back for the umpteenth time. Sarah could have sworn she saw the vaultie give her a condescending look.

"We were just out saving the city of Megaton from some of Burke's little covert slaving operation. Neal stayed behind to help the injured." Amata rattled it off as if she were a regular military grunt. It irked Sarah that she was beginning to respect the little vault bastard. She hadn't anticipated this. Neal goes from cold-blooded massacre to a saint like saving op? It just didn't make sense. It was like that everywhere he went. The Wanderer always found someone's problems to fix. But that wasn't news to her. As much as Sarah wanted to confront Neal about what she had discovered, she was just too damn tired to put forth the proper amount of effort to argue effectively.

"Well, I guess there's no sense in standing around. Any chance I could take you up on food and a shower?" Sarah tried her best to be polite.

Amata smirked, "Of course." she turned and motioned to someone behind her and the gates began to open.

Sarah was almost floored at the sights she saw within the walls of the former Talon Company base. There were people everywhere. She privately wondered how the Rangers managed to feed everyone. It pained her to observe that this base was far more productive and self-sufficient than the Citadel. Their troops were running drills and the civvies were busily…and happily at work.

Amata stepped down from the watch and met Sarah.

"We thought you were captured, glad to see that isn't the case." Amata said genuinely.

As much as Sarah wanted to sneer, she didn't. Maybe she was too tired to hold grudges. But something Amata said clicked. Neal thought she would be captured and therefore she wouldn't have found out about Fort Independence. But Burke let her go, just like that. Burke wanted her to see what Neal had done. He wanted her to turn against him. He wanted her to believe Neal turned against the Brotherhood. Sarah didn't want to believe Neal was somehow involved with this mysterious employer, but her gut told her he was. Maybe he was playing his own angle. It didn't make sense.

Sarah realized she had been staring off into space, but Amata hadn't interrupted her, she was waiting politely.

"I was." Sarah said hoarsely, her voice barely audible. She was dehydrated.

Amata looked puzzled at this. "How did you escape?"

"I didn't. They just…let me go." Sarah said solemnly, a little raw emotion lingering in her words. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. Sensing this, Amata motioned for Sarah to follow her into a cafeteria. She tossed her a bottle of Aqua Pura and a can of Pork N' Beans. Sarah stomach growled at the sight of sustenance. She immediately sat at the nearest lunch table and began tearing into her food and chugging her water. Amata was obviously attempting to give Sarah space as she left Sarah alone.

As Sarah finished forking down the Pork-N-Beans her Aqua Pura she noticed Dogmeat padded his way into the cafeteria. When he spotted Sarah's his ears perked up and he trotted over to her. Sarah reached out a hand and rubbed behind the canine's ears. He happily panted as she spoke to him.

"Oh hi boy. It's been too long."

Dogmeat barked happily in response. Sarah felt a wave of exhaustion hit her again and she forced herself to stand and toss the remains of her meal into a trashcan. She looked down at Neal's most faithful companion.

"Do you know where I can get some rack time?" Sarah asked, realizing how crazy asking a dog seemed.

Dogmeat quirked his head to one side.

"You can rest just down the hall past the med bay. First door on your right." Amata said, "It's not the nicest, but it beats being outside with the rest of the refugees."

Sarah nodded to Amata appreciatively and made her way towards her room. A cot with a sleeping bag rolled up at the foot invited her to rest. She noticed Dogmeat followed her and curled up near the door silently. She shrugged and began to undo her armor and lay out her weapons before unrolling the sleeping bag. Sarah got whiff of herself in the process and ruefully remembered she needed to clean up pretty badly. The sad part was Dogmeat was probably cleaner than she was. Sarah decided she needed sleep more than anything right now and laid down, rolling the covers up as far as possible so as not to smell herself. Sarah stared up at the cracked ceiling until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Dogmeat's bark awoke her what felt like five minutes later. She noticed the sounds of feet thundering through the halls and someone barking orders just outside her closet of a room. Through the wall she could hear people scurrying about in the med-bay. Sarah slowly sat up despite her entire body's protests. She looked over at Dogmeat who was whimpering and barking at the door. Sarah slowly stood and curiously opened the door, watching Dogmeat scamper down the hall and into the med-bay. Sarah padded after him and stopped at the doorway, the numerous voices becoming clearer.

The scene before her was quite bloody and desperate. A dark skinned boy in his early teens, whom Sarah recognized as Harden Simms, sat on an operating table with tears streaking down his dirt-crusted face. He clutched his thigh, staring down at his compound fracture. The surprisingly pristine white bones of his shin poking from two holes in his bleeding shin. Another man with an eye-patch and bandana, looking equally as disheveled, clutched near a scorch wound on his hip. It didn't look life threatening, but it didn't mean that it wasn't painful. Sarah of all people knew that. She saw Amata, Neal, Reilly, the Ranger medic, and two other people she'd never seen before all moving about the med bay and talking in medical jargon. Some, like Amata and a blonde woman, presumably from Megaton, seemed to be there more for moral support than anything. The others were speaking in medical jargon and grabbing various tools. After a moment of thought, Sarah realized she had recently been to Megaton and it had been completely deserted. How they got here, she didn't know, but judging by the situation at hand, it wasn't by peaceful means.

Sarah looked down at Dogmeat who appeared to be fighting an internal battle about whether to go to his master's side or to wait. Sarah softly told Dogmeat to stay, to which the hound whimpered slightly, but not at her. His concern was fixated on his master.

Sarah assumed it was because he wanted to go to him, but something in the back of her mind reminded her how smart he was. Dogmeat was very attuned to his master's needs and emotions.

Sarah continued to observe as a dark skinned woman in a red jumpsuit began to treat and wrap the wounds of the man in the eye patch. The man didn't appear to be paying his wounds any mind. He was watching on the boy and an Asian girl about the boy's age who stood near him, holding his hand. He clearly saw how much more dire the boy's situation was. The girl occasionally glanced back at the man with the eye-patch but her concerns were obviously more fixated on the boy.

Neal spoke to them.

"In order for your bones to heal, I'm going to need to put them back in place." Neal said carefully.

Harden nodded weakly, but said nothing, clearly fearful of the impending pain.

Neal glanced at the girl next Harden and said something quietly. The girl nodded and turned to Harden and spoke to him, obviously trying to take his mind off of it. The blonde woman nearby moved over with a medical sheet and put it on Harden's lap and held it up so the boy couldn't see his exposed shin anymore, or what Neal was about to do.

Neal removed the wrap and gripped Harden's shin, forcing the bones under the skin and into place with one deft motion. Harden screamed bloody murder but Neal continued to work, his face calm and focused. Sarah noticed he kept swallowing, for some reason. Once the bones were in place, Neal cleaned the wounds and injected more painkillers. He then wrapped the wound and put a brace on Harden's knee to protect it and so he wouldn't be tempted to move it. Both of the wounded appeared to be stable and Neal stepped away for a moment and began to wash his hands. Sarah noticed his hands were shaky. He cleaned the blood off of his armor and began to remove it. He looked very tired and sluggish. Sarah and Amata made concerned eye contact with one another, confirming they both saw it. The doctors began to trickle from the room, but Butcher, the Ranger's medic stayed, talking quietly with Reilly. The blonde helped the man with the bandana and eye patch from the room, while Harden was carried out to another room to rest on a stretcher.

Moments later, Neal collapsed onto the floor with a surprisingly heavy thud. Fearful gasps filled the room as Neal barely moved.

"Out of the way!" Butcher shouted. He rolled Neal over onto his back and began to search for the problem.

He saw the blood in Neal's mouth and began to search for a bullet wound. His hands moved over towards a stream of blood that ran from a wound just outside of Neal's armpit. The bullet grazed part of Neal's shoulder and went into his chest cavity form the side. Butcher looked spooked. Dogmeat rushed to his master's side and began to lick his face.

"This is bad." He said gravely as he reached for Neal's pulse.

Reilly was the first to shout in confusion.

"What the hell do you mean? He was fine the fight!"

Butcher looked at her, equally as shocked, "This bullet hit both lungs and his heart. I have no idea how he lasted this long. I've got no pulse."

The news dropped on everyone like a ton of steel. There was a shocked silence when suddenly Sarah felt herself being shoved to the side.

A man she had never seen before rushed into the room, followed hotly by an odd looking woman carrying what looked like a rebreather.

The man was scarily similar to Neal in appearance, except for the fact that he didn't shave and his hair was much longer. His voice was what shook Sarah to the bone. She had heard that voice before.

"He's not dead yet, he's just lost a lot of blood." The man said to Butcher.

Butcher shook his head, "There's no pulse, Courier! He's gone!"

The Courier shook his head this time, "He doesn't have a heart. That's why there's no pulse."

Obviously taking this to offense, Reilly shouted in defense of her friend, "What the fuck do you mean?" she said dangerously.

"He doesn't have the brain or the heart organs any longer… When he came out west, he was having issues with his head. His mind was going… So I took him to some…friends and they performed an operation on him. They replaced his brain, heart, and spine with superior technology from before the war. I'm the same way." The Courier responded.

He motioned to the woman with the rebreather, and she placed it over Neal's mouth and nose. She twisted a nob on the rebreather and at first nothing appeared to happen. But slowly, before everyone's eyes, Neal's wounds began to close. The sound of a metallic clank on the floor got everyone's attention. The woman reached down and picked up a mangled hollow point round.

Everyone's bewildered expression prompted the woman to speak.

"When I was working on _The Wasteland Survival Guide, _Neal was my research assistant," she said proudly before continuing, "He had advanced radiation poisoning for one of my experiments. While I was trying to cure him I kind of…played with his DNA like a kitten with a ball of yarn." She said quickly.

"While Neal is an excellent specimen and heals very quickly for a human my little…mishap…made him able to heal any damage to his bones or tissue if he is in high radiation." The woman, Sarah knew now was Moira Brown, removed the rebreather.

John crouched by Neal and plugged his pip boy into Neal's. The beeping of a program could be heard. John pressed a few buttons on his pip boy and an automated female voice came through his pip-boy's speakers.

"Running diagnostics…" the female voice reported neutrally.

"Minor damage to the life support systems…Initiating repair sequence." The voice reported. Another voice could be heard, but this one was male and had a peculiar accent.

"Hippocampus wipe and reboot scheduled for…twenty-seven days…seven hours…forty-eight minutes…and twenty-two seconds from now.

"We await the results with great anticipation." The voice said with eerie glee. More voices began to chime in but John turned the program off.

"Repairs complete. Shutting down." The automated voice reported.

John pressed another button and Neal shot up into a sitting position. He looked around the room with a puzzled expression, obviously unaware of what had just happened. He placed his left hand on his chest and began to rotate his right arm as if working out the tightness from the phantom wound. He reached out and petted Dogmeat who happily licked his master's face. Neal took in the people standing about the room. Reilly was giving him a wary look, though she was obviously pleased he was alive. Butcher was clearly flummoxed and merely stared at the cyborg that was the Lone Wanderer. Amata was clearly confused and her expression made it difficult to discern her thoughts on the topic.

"I can explain…"

When Neal's gaze turned to Sarah, she merely shook her head bitterly and stomped from the room. She didn't want to hear what he had to say. Not right now at least.

Those that stayed in the med bay got to hear the whole situation. Explained by both the Courier and the Wanderer.

"I'm not exactly sure where to start, but before you draw any conclusions about our individual actions I would like to say that they were absolutely necessary. Most of them at least." Neal said.

"As far as my um…upgrades go. Replacing my brain saved me from becoming insane and quite soon after, death. As you probably know already, I was losing my mind. Pieces of that mind are still in this machine in my head. The process of moving from a brain to a computer takes a bit. The mind creates memories where there are none, hence the delusions and other issues. That chip you saw put into my head by Burke was the last piece of the upgrades. When I was 'dead' the chip was simply integrating into my system. Burke knew that and decided to take the opportunity to take power."

John stepped forward and began to speak, "The whole remote control charade Burke was putting on was to trick everyone into believing he could control the Wanderer. This would make Elder Lyons believe he had been double crossed when the staged, 'take over' would occur."

Reilly and Butcher appeared to know about the Elder's involvement already. Amata however was completely floored.

"So you're saying the Elder knows about this?" Amata said in shock.

"More than knows. He's a part of it, though not as directly as some of us. Taking out the Outcasts was his idea."

Amata shook her head, "Does Sarah know any of this?"

Neal looked rather surprised that she was asking this. "No, she doesn't." he said honestly.

"Why not?"

"I had hoped she would believe this to all be the work of the Outcasts, but that's obviously not going to happen now, Burke let her go to try and to turn her against us."

"Turn her against _you_, Neal, not us. Why _are _you doing this? What's your angle?" Amata pressed.

"Her father and I came to an agreement. Owyn believes this plot is best for Sarah and for the Brotherhood. When I met with John and his companions, the Elder's fears were confirmed. While John's efforts thwarted the Legion sect that threatened the Mojave, the main force in Denver still remains and they press further and further east. With their main chapter back in the Mojave extinct as well as the Outcast defectors, the Lyons' are no longer under fire for straying from the Brotherhood doctrine and creating his own. If we don't do something to stop the Legion from getting here," Neal paused and his face was grim.

John stepped in and provided his experiences.

"The Legion is ruthless and cannot be reasoned with. They're very cold and cruel. Every tribe they come across is either enslaved or forced into their military. Women cannot serve in the military and have no rights. Any place they find that they deem unworthy, they play the lottery. They give everyone a lottery ticket. One lucky individual is set free the rest are crucified or burned alive. Do you want to chance a fate like that?" John asked coldly.

Amata, Reilly, and Butcher all shuddered and shook their heads.

"Their numbers are massive. With each tribe they take, they gain more slaves and more soldiers. Boys start in the military as soon as they are able. They are very well trained despite how archaic their armor and weapons are. They are very technophobic so their numbers compensate for that. This is something we can use to our advantage. Reilly, you know this." Neal said firmly. Reilly tentatively nodded.

"So where does this leave you? No doubt we'll need you lead us." Reilly said. Amata couldn't help but think that Reilly really _didn't _know everything. Neal played his cards close to his chest.

"I can't stay in DC. Not after everything I've done. Having the Outcasts taken out is something I can't take back. Everyone relies on the Lone Wanderer too much. They have to learn to take care of themselves. If everything goes as we planned," Neal said, motioning to John and himself, "The Legion won't make it here at all."

"It still doesn't make sense why you're keeping Sarah in the dark though." Reilly pointed out.

"It's better that she think I've changed and that she blame me than lose faith in the Brotherhood. If she does, the Brotherhood will crumble. She's the only one who can lead them. If she knows that her father was involved, DC will fall to the Legion. Besides, in a few days, I won't remember anything." Neal said solemnly.

"If our plan fails, it's up to all of you. The Brotherhood cannot fight alone either. The ghouls I set up in Raven Rock will also be key. There's lots of tech in there that can help you. Charon is overseeing that. What I'm asking Amata to do is consolidate our numbers so they have to attack well-equipped stronghold like this one. A united wasteland is a strong one. I've spent the last year getting this all set up. Now it's time for us to get rid of Burke and his mercs and start to prepare."

Amata could tell Neal felt bad for not telling Sarah all of this, but she knew why he was really doing it. Sure, Sarah learning of her father's sins would wound her, but Neal didn't seem to realize how much her believing him a traitor hurt. He seemed to believe her feelings for him had lessened over time. Amata could see that wasn't the case. Neal seemed to believe any chance of a love life was doomed since he became the great Wanderer, but Amata wasn't so sure. Sarah could weather distance like that. She too would be busy in the coming years. Then something occurred to Amata.

"What was that 'hippocampus rewrite' about?" Amata asked.

Neal and John both visibly winced.

"In order for me to transition to this new 'brain' it has to reboot. My memories of everything here will be gone. I can't keep them since my 'old' brain was so corrupted." Neal said grimly.

"There's a chance he could recover them, but it's very slim." John said. "It's only happened once before. I was shot in the head while working as a Courier and I forgot the life I had before that day. Through the years I remembered it…in a way. While they aren't perfectly vivid memories I can remember the gist of them. In any case, this mission we're undertaking is at nearly suicide odds. The likelihood of us surviving is quite slim."

Amata stared at the floor for a moment.

"So after we take the Citadel…?"

"I'm gone." Neal said with a sense of finality. Neal glanced at John for a moment and the two exchanged a look, communicating silently.

"We'll start planning our rendezvous with Julian and the Temple of the Union tomorrow. For now, John and I need to discuss a few things."

Everyone nodded and headed towards the door. Amata realized how much she was looking forward to seeing Julian again. Their relationship as of lately was complicated and they needed to iron things out, but for now, she had to focus on the task at hand.

Reilly stopped before she exited, "You'll at least talk to her?"

Neal shrugged. Reilly gave him a terse look.

"If you don't, I will." She warned.

Neal frowned at her, but nodded.

As they exited the room, Reilly stopped Amata.

"I don't think he's going to tell her. The bastard always has to be the hero and do the noble thing." Reilly said.

Amata shrugged, "That's just how he is. Always has been. I get the impression he's planning on telling her everything indirectly, after it's all done."

"So an audiotape left at her desk or something? That's kind of cowardly don't you think?" Reilly mused.

"I know he loves her. I've seen the way he looks at her. He used to look at me that way. But what he's doing now is far more than that. He's sacrificing everything for all of us. I think he wants her to be able to move on and not have what happened to him hanging over her head." Amata replied, hoping her interpretation made sense.

Reilly nodded, "The Elder always did use Neal's affections for Sarah to twist him into doing his bidding. This is no different, Sarah blaming Neal means she commits to leading the Brotherhood and doesn't let herself be influenced. Or something like that."

Amata agreed, "By not telling her, Neal must think Sarah won't blame herself for all of this. Seems like he's always in a tough position."

The sound of a door swinging open could be heard down the hall.

"What are you talking about?" Sarah asked, her voice quavering with anger.

* * *

It had been a rough two days but Julian had finally found the remains of the Lincoln Memorial. The haven was well maintained and heavily guarded. After drawing close a dark skinned man with a Lincoln-esque goatee shouted at him from behind a sandbag checkpoint to stop where he was. Julian dropped his weapon and raised his hands peacefully.

"The Lone Wanderer sent me." Julian said.

The man appeared to consider this.

"The Lone Wanderer, eh? I figured he'd come himself. What's your name kid?" the man said.

"My name is Julian Torres. I used to work for the caravans. Now, I'm trying to help the Wanderer get rid of one of the biggest known slavers known as Mr. Burke."

"That sounds about right. Torres, you said? I think you might know one of our own. Follow me." The man said, opening the barricade.

"My name's Caleb by the way." the man said, as he led the way.

"Our leader, Hannibal, will want to talk with you." Caleb said.

Julian was lead into the grand room in which statue of Lincoln sat with its recently reattached head. Situated near the base of the statue was Hannibal the leader of the Temple of the Union, a faction of freed slaves.

"I see the Wanderer, our fellow abolitionist, has sent a messenger." Hannibal said, his voice booming and hearty.

Julian gave the man a sheepish grin. "Yes, he wants me to inform you that he needs your help taking out an infamous slaver."

"Mr. Burke, yes. The Wanderer and I have been waiting for this day for a long time." Hannibal admitted.

"But before we get to discussion our plan of action, I believe there is someone that wants to see you." Hannibal said with a smile, his gaze focused at a point behind Julian.

With that, Julian heard trotting footsteps behind him. A woman in faded white robes and a headwrap approached him. She was of Latin descent and her features reminded Julian of his mother.

He stammered for a moment, unable to bring his thoughts to words. Just before the woman reached him he remembered.

"Alejandra!" Julian shouted remembering his little sister and pulling her into a desperate hug. He had not seen her in years. She had been taken into slavery, along with the rest of Julian's tribe while he had been away with the caravans. He never forgave himself for that. He never thought he'd see her again.

"It's so good to see you big brother!" Alejandra exclaimed.

"Neal must have known it was you. That's why he sent me." Julian said, glancing at Hannibal.

"What?" Alejandra asked, looking at her brother in confusion.

"The Wanderer." Julian corrected, realizing few knew the Wanderer's real name.

"That is likely." Hannibal said with a hint of cheer.

"How were you freed?" Julian asked his sister. He realized how much she had grown. She was quite beautiful even in her ragged clothing. She seemed quite happy.

"It's something I'd rather not speak of." She said quietly. "I started a school here, I teach everyone here how to read and write and many other things. I love it." She confessed happily.

"Alejandra is very smart. She's quite the teacher." Hannibal said with a smile.

Alejandra smiled at this. "I'll let you finish talking with Hannibal. We can catch up later."

She gave Julian's shoulder a squeeze before walking towards another part of the building.

Julian wiped a lone tear from his eye and turned back to Hannibal.

"So, about this Burke guy…"

* * *

Neal and John were drinking whiskey and making small talk in between sessions of planning their final assault.

"There's something you should know about me." John said after downing a shot of whiskey.

Neal scoffed, "I knew you were hiding something." He relished in the burn of the whiskey as he swallowed it, wishing it was burning his soul clean of his crimes. Wishing that for once that his life would be simple.

John only smirked for a moment as if knowing his ally's thoughts. "Not quite as secretive as you, my friend." Neal looked away for a moment, wishing it wasn't true. But it was the reality he knew so well. Ever since he left the vault, innocence wasn't an option. Honesty was a privilege. And death was an intimate friend.

John took another swig from the bottle and glanced down at his pip boy.

"You and I, Neal, we're two of a kind." John said cryptically. His eyes swam with thoughts, trying to find the right words.

"We both came from vaults, thrust into the unknown and thrived…somehow."

Neal's brow rose slightly at this. Now that he knew John was a vaultie, it made sense. John spoke like an educated man, he could read and write, something that wasn't common in post-apocalyptia.

"But there is one fundamental difference between you and I."  
Neal feigned neutrality though he was gripping the bottle with a nervous intensity. The other hand was on his knife.

"The vault I came from had cryogenic technology. I was one of a few marines tucked away during the war, waiting to be awakened. The world I once knew was destroyed 200 years ago. I am the only one that survived. John used the shocked silence to reach for his neck and pull off surprisingly pristine holotags. They were clearly not the repurposed ones the Brotherhood used.

Sgt. John Davenport

758-25-2369

A Pos

Male

United States Marine Corps

Neal sat the tags back down and blinked for a moment.

"How old are you, exactly?"

"24."

Neal did the approximation in his head.

All he could say was, "Damn."

"It's not all bad," John confessed, "I've had better luck with women this time around."

Neal laughed. Then sadly stared down at his dwindling bottle of booze.

"Wish I could say the same." Neal said with a sad laugh.

John nodded, "Yeah being who you are makes that difficult, but unfortunately that's how it goes sometimes."

"In the end, I wouldn't change what I've done." John added.

Neal agreed, "Me either, I don't think many can do what we do."

"Making a difference is hard. I guess if it were easy, the world would be perfect. It seems so easy to lose your way sometimes. I remember when the Caesar of the Legion sent me his mark and spoke with me. For a while there, I considered joining him. The idea of having an army behind me and a leader that understood my value was appealing, I will not lie. Figured I'd take him over at some point too. Hell, Cass isn't really that opposed to working for 'em. Suppose that was her just looking out for her own hide." John said, turning the bottle around nervously.

"And now she's your inside man. How can you let her do that?" Neal asked.

John shrugged, "It was her idea. I didn't really have much of a choice. That contract with Burke, she couldn't resist. She loves a taking risks. Ever since she found out why her father left her when she was little, she's tried to make her own mark."

Neal nodded, "She did mention the Chosen One. Seems like she married the new one."

John scowled and shook off the comment, "Nah, I'm not some damned messiah. I'm just an old military grunt. I do what I think's right."

Neal snorted in light laughter, "I hear you. I'm a legacy child. It's hard not to follow in your parents' footsteps when they died for greater good."

John nodded and smirked, "If you would've just stayed in the damn vault like your dad asked, you wouldn't have to do all of this shit."

Neal barked in laughter, "Kinda hard to when the Overseer wants you dead."

John laughed lightly and then paused, "Listen. I know you think you're doing the right thing by keeping all of this from your girlfriend, but it's just going to come back and bite you in the ass, believe me."

Neal swallowed a large gulp of the whiskey and petted Dogmeat as his faithful hound sat on the floor next to his booth. He didn't respond right away. He and John both knew the Sentinel was eavesdropping. Sarah wasn't as good at stealth as she thought she was. Sneaking up on her half-deaf, senior citizen father wasn't much of an accomplishment.

"I know, but what do I say? How can I tell her what I'm about to do? How can I say that I won't…you know…"

John shrugged and took another drink from his bottle.

"Doesn't matter how, the truth is the truth no matter how you spin it. As for the rest… She'll find that out on her own. I think she suspects it already."

Neal shrugged helplessly and stared at the bottle for a moment longer.

"Well…I'm going to go do some thinking. We've got a lot of planning to do tomorrow. See you then." Both men knew the other didn't need sleep or food.

John raised his bottle in a salute.

When Neal rounded the corner, Sarah was waiting for him. He wasn't as surprised as she thought he'd be when she slammed him up against the wall with all of her might. Dogmeat barked and crouched into an aggressive stance.

"You better start talking! Since when are you a fucking cyborg!" Sarah shouted.

Neal ordered Dogmeat to stand down and met Sarah's eyes guiltily.

"Point Lookout really fucked me up. I was starting to lose it." Neal said, "I went to Rothchild and he wouldn't speak. Saying he couldn't do something like what he did to Cross again. So I asked Cross about it and she was very vague. Your father however pointed me to Pinkerton who spoke of a mysterious 'think tank' out west who could save my mind. Whether by coincidence or not, I was sent on a mission by your father's request to scout out the east for news of the West Chapter of the Brotherhood. There I met John and his companions. He showed me this 'think tank' and they fixed me up."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me this was happening to you?! Instead you go behind my back? I would have helped you!" Sarah berated Neal.

Neal reached out and grabbed her both of her shoulders in an attempt to settle her down.

"I didn't want to distract you. You were just about to go out into the field for awhile so I figured I'd take care of it myself and be good by the time you got back, but everything went sideways and…"

Sarah didn't let him finish. She shook herself from his grasp.

"I would have made sure you were okay before I left! I would have done something!"

Neal eyes softened.

"I know you would have. That's why I couldn't ask that of you. The Brotherhood comes first, you know that."

Sarah was beginning to sense a theme behind all of this. With every stupidly risky thing Neal did, more often than not, her father was somehow involved. Maybe her father saw the potential in Neal and was not biased in assigning him tasks. Sarah knew she tended to coddle Neal whether subconsciously or so he was around more. Despite her best attempts, Sarah knew that the Brotherhood was right for its rules of fraternization, she could not truly say if she could leave Neal behind. Now, she was beginning to look more warily at her lover.

"Why all _this_? Why kill the Outcasts?" Sarah said in exasperation.

"I did not kill them myself, but it was deemed necessary. They were hell bent of taking you and your father out of the picture, I couldn't allow that to happen. Not only that, but there was no other way the Brotherhood could train soldiers as quickly."

Sarah caught his implication, "The Anchorage simulation? What is everyone preparing for?"

Neal seemed to expect this, as if it were all part of the plan.

"Caesar's Legion. They are pillaging their way east. John is convinced DC is their aim."

The news hit Sarah like a super sledge, but there had always been a worry in the very back of her mind. The way Neal spoke about John was as if he were a trusted friend, something quite rare for Neal. The Wanderer played his cards close to his chest. Sarah knew, after hearing his voice that he was the mysterious man she had encountered numerous times. She couldn't exactly complain about him keeping his end of the bargain, he did after all, revive Neal…more than once.

Sarah looked at Neal for a moment, trying to gauge just how much he had changed. Physically, he looked the same, perhaps a bit more worn than usual...and taller? The look in his eyes was even more difficult to read, but now it almost looked blank at times. Now, when he looked at her, she could tell there was a lot he wasn't telling her. He seemed to wish he could.

"You trust him?" Sarah questioned, carefully reading Neal's reaction.

"I do. He's a lot like me."

Sarah folded her arms, she was beginning to like what she heard less and less.

"How so? Did he also murder an entire faction of Brotherhood?"

Neal glanced at her shoulder sheepishly for a moment.

"Well, yes." Neal said weakly.

Sarah almost had to pick herself up from the floor.

"Are you serious? What one?" she threatened more than asked.

Neal wouldn't meet her eyes, which was rare thing. He was pretty good at lying, but it seemed he still had a weak spot for lying to her.

"The West Chapter." Neal said, his voice filled with dread.

Sarah felt hot tears forming in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them show. Sarah reached out and slugged Neal in the face, his head barely moved at all. Sarah's hand hurt immediately, even through she had an enhanced power fist in her left gauntlet. The skin along his temple had busted open and bleed steadily.

"You trust _him_!" she shouted.

Neal only stood there, not trying to stop her as she continued to berate him, until finally she grew tired of throwing punches and screaming obscenities at him. She was angry he didn't trust her enough to tell her of what he had done and planned to do. She despised the fact that he would ally himself with someone like John. She couldn't believe he would allow himself to become a machine.

"He did what needed to be done, much like I did." Neal said, his voice sounded a little sad.

"My body might be mostly machine, but its still me, Sarah. I know you can't possibly understand why I would do this, or go to these lengths. But I want you to know that I had you in mind when I set out. You know me. When I come across something like this, an impossible cause, I can't help myself. I have to do something. You might think this is a little extreme even for me, but you saw how many Enclave soldiers were at that base. You know who your father sends for impossible odds scenarios, he can't bear to risk your life. So he sends me. I'm not Brotherhood, and I never will be."

Sarah was having a hard time taking in everything she was hearing. The look in Neal's eyes was as emotional as she seen it.

"But I hold nothing against you, Sarah. You are what DC needs, not me. You're the leader. You have that fire in you that makes the people around you willing to follow you into hell itself. It's what I loved about you from the beginning. If there's anyone that can stand against the Legion, it's you."

She saw the truth in his words. Sarah was beginning to connect everything Neal had done. The way Fort Bannister was building itself up, taking out the Outcast base so the Brotherhood could train faster, she could only guess at what else he had set in motion. Sarah still couldn't bring herself to believe her father's actions were as deliberately biased as they seemed, even if they were coming from the only person she allowed herself to be close with, or at least used to be.

She could see a longing in his eyes, even though she was royally pissed at him, it was good to see he missed her as much as she did him.

"You're right," Sarah said, her voice quavering with strongly mixed emotions, "I don't understand why you've done this, or why John would exterminate the people who were once family to me. The place where I was born and we buried my mother." Sarah slowly began to raise her voice, as much as she wanted to believe him and take him back, she couldn't. Neal's face tightened in an attempt to hide his dismay, knowing how this would end.

"But as long as you help me retake the Citadel, I don't care what you've become. Just get my people back like you always do."

Neal's face hid the hurt well, but it was still there in subtle ways. His jaw tightened as he spoke.

"You won't have to worry about me after that. I'll be out of your life. You've made this easier." Neal's eyes bored into her with all the coolness they could muster. He didn't appear to notice the trickle of blood from his temple running down his cheek. He pushed himself from where he leaned on the wall and made his way down the hall, Dogmeat hot on his heels.

Sarah couldn't help but wonder what she had just done. It had felt like the right decision, but she began to wonder the moment the words left her mouth. Sarah brushed a lock of loose hair behind her ear and turned towards her 'quarters' she was startled at the sight of the mysterious Courier standing before her. He was of a similar build as Neal, tall and athletic, but unmistakably battle-hardened, it showed on his face. The scars on his face were a testament to his experience in the dance with death. He had a full beard that was surprisingly well-kept and bright blue eyes that made her uneasy, much like the eyeplates of his mask.

"There's something you need to see." His unmistakable voice revealing nothing of his intentions.

* * *

**I know some of you may have suspected these events, but I hope the twists you'll find in the coming chapters will surprise you. Thanks for reading! **


	18. Chapter 18: It's Up to You

A/N: Hello again everyone. Sorry about the late update. I know I say it a lot but I really do mean it. Mid-way through writing this my previous laptop decided to quit the field, so I had to start from scratch. That was part of the reason why this took so long, but alas I admit it wasn't the whole reason. I had a hard time figuring out just how to write this so I rewrote it numerous times. Anyways, here is the lead up to the final chapter!

* * *

John used his pip-boy to bring up the lights in what looked to be the command center. A circular table with a hand drawn map of the wasteland splayed out across it. There were different colored flags marking each of the known settlements in DC. Some were green while others were white, a few red flags sat unused at the edge of the table. Sarah could guess what they were for. This was the plan Neal had been keeping from her. She was surprised at some of the places she saw green flags.

"Who's controlling Raven Rock?" Sarah asked, pointing to the green flag.

"Charon was put in charge as well as other ghouls they've worked with in the past. It was decided they were the best suited to interpreting that cache of pre-war tech." John said.

Sarah didn't like how he put it. "Oh, so the Brotherhood isn't capable of handling pre-war tech?" she chided.

John didn't flinch, "The decision was not mine. It was made by Neal and Elder Lyons. If you have a problem with it, you can take up with one of them tomorrow during the briefing."

Sarah folded her arms at her chest and bit her lip. She knew her father was in on this. She hated how this was all done behind her back. Why wasn't she included?

Sarah's eyes continued to study the map. They had secured some solid allies. None were as formidable as the Brotherhood, but places like this fort as well as Tenpenny Tower, and the Temple of the Union provided support they would definitely need. Sarah noted that Rivet City still had a white flag on it. This was obviously going to have to be changed at some point. Maybe when Dr. Li returned from the Commonwealth they'd be able to come to an agreement. The scientist owed the Brotherhood.

"What exactly are we being briefed on?" Sarah asked, arms holding her upper body up as she hunched over the map.

"Securing the Citadel and the preparations that are to be made after. The Wanderer is going to give out special assignments to a few people and from there we'll set off. You can ask questions then. I can't reveal any more than that. I brought you here so you could see what he's been doing in secret over the last year. He did this to continue protecting his people, particularly many of you here in this fort. But in the end, this is all up a select few and you are one of them."

"What am I supposed to do?" Sarah asked, sounding more desperate than she wanted.

John's expression was actually emotive. It carried a warning, though she couldn't be sure what it was.

"Try and reconcile while you can. Things are going to get much worse before they get any better. There is an enemy coming like nothing you've ever seen before. You must weather the coming conflict and then maybe people like us can settle down. Our battles choose us." It was obvious John had seen things on par, if not worse than she. He looked like what she imagined an older Neal would. From what he said, Sarah knew time was running short. She didn't know it at the time, but these words would echo through her consciousness for years to come. And they would ring to be truer than any of them could have anticipated.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah said through the cracked door. The light barely showing Neal's silhouette.

"You're going to have to be more specific." He said squinting into the light. Sarah entered the small room and stood near the double bed.

"The Compact." Sarah said, hoping her vagueness would force him to divulge more of what it entailed.

"I'm doing what I have to."

"You don't sound too thrilled about it."

"What I'm doing isn't exactly fun. It's a matter of life and death, just like it always is with the wasteland. I made sure everyone is prepared and all of the loose ends are tied up. Everything's on the line."

Sarah sat down next to him on the bed, but he didn't look at her. His eyes were miles away.

"What about you? Where do you fit in?" Sarah asked, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"John and I are taking a more direct approach. While you and the others are on the defensive, we'll be trying to stop them before they get here in the first place."

"But who's got your back?" Sarah asked, placing a hand on his thigh. This was something she never did with anyone else.

"John." He said quietly. Though Sarah got the impression Neal was worried about something. Maybe he didn't trust John.

"Do you trust him?" Sarah asked.

"It's not that. I just worry about the op. It's tenuous at best. But that's never stopped me before."

When Neal finally looked at Sarah, she understood what he was implying.

"I'm sorry for what my father asked of you. He only did it because he knew what you were capable of."

Neal's eyes turned cold, "You believe that?"

"The Pride was disbanded with me knocked out and our lines were spread thin. You were his ace in the hole." Sarah tried, not even sure if she believed what came out of her mouth.

Neal looked down, "I believed that at the time. But now," he shook his head, "I know I am expendable to him."

It was Sarah's turn to look ashamed. "I'm sorry I didn't see. He's my father and he stands for so much."

Neal placed his hand on hers. "It's not your fault."

Sarah looked at him, "Yes it is. He used how you feel about me to advance his agenda. How is that not my fault?"

"You didn't know," Neal said, "I don't blame you."

"Then why are you doing this? Why go forward with his plans?"

"It's what I do," He said simply as he looked at her, "I still have something to lose if I don't stop Caesar's Legion."

Sarah smiled sadly at him for a moment but still had questions, "Why do all of this?" she said pointing to his top of the line pip-boy. It was currently displaying the status of his body and his overall health.

"It upped the odds of survival. A metallic skeleton and mechanical organs makes you harder to kill and easier to fix."

Sarah didn't like the way he was talking about himself, but with Neal's track record, it unfortunately made sense.

"John told me you're in charge of the briefing tomorrow and that you had special assignments for certain people?"

Neal nodded, "Julian, Reilly, and Amata all have something specifically tailored to their talents. A couple other contacts of mine will be there too. They're all part of the alliance we've been forming. Yours is by far the most important, we couldn't entrust it to anyone else. That's as much as I can tell you, the rest is for your father to tell you."

Sarah was really getting sick of being left in the dark. She was a grown woman and the highest ranking Brotherhood soldier, second only to her father. She was too independent and strong for coddling wasn't she? Whatever it was, it must be serious making it all the more maddening that she didn't know.

Neal could see her frustration quite obviously, "I wish I could tell you, but now isn't the time. I promise you will be told when the time is right and not a second after."

Sarah realized she wasn't the only one keeping secrets in their relationship. She wasn't even sure she could call it that now, things were so on and off with their duties taking precedence over their affections. Maybe if she had made it more clear to the Brotherhood that she and Neal were involved intimately, she wouldn't have to spend so much energy keeping it a secret. Maybe instead of simply hoping her father didn't know about them, she should have talked to him about it. That could have prevented Neal's actions in the last year. Something from their earlier conversation struck her then.

"Earlier you said 'I made your decision easier'. What was that all about?"

Neal's expression was unmistakably regretful.

"I'm sorry, I was angry with your reaction to everything, even though it was what I expected." He took a moment before continuing, making sure Sarah accepted his apology.

"This mission…It's time sensitive and exhaustive. I need to leave well in advance of the Legion's arrival to help prepare the Midwestern Brotherhood. John has already heard reports of them as near as Kansas. We need to get to Chicago as soon as possible and help coordinate their efforts. They are strong and decisive with a lot of specialized teams, but they don't have the sheer numbers they will need for the Legion. John has a friend of his consulting with them currently, but time is wasting. Who knows how long it'll take."

"The Midwest Brotherhood? They were part of the group that left with my father and I out east. All I know is the soldiers that survived the crash set up in Chicago. But I did hear my dad talking about them having some trouble with robots. At the time we didn't have enough resources or men to send with their messengers."

Neal nodded, "They changed their exclusionist policy after a tribal known as the Warrior rose through their ranks and defeated the robots and their leader. I'm sure you've heard that story before."

Sarah nodded, "It's funny how similar stories are popping up around the wastes." She said with a smirk. Neal smiled weakly back at her.

She squeezed his thigh, "I know, the Brotherhood needs to start taking in new recruits. You've made that abundantly clear."

"If you don't DC will fall. The Legion dominates with numbers and discipline. Their soldiers are fearless and will jump on a sword on command."

"A sword?" Sarah asked with a smirk.

Neal couldn't resist smiling back at her, "Yes, they use swords and spears," he said with a sheepish smirk, but his expression returned to serious shortly, "They're technophobic but it doesn't affect them much since they gain new troops with every village they sack."

Sarah realized why he was so subdued. The Legion didn't leave any survivors made the situation all the more dire.

"So you're leaving then?" it came out as more of a statement than a question. Her voice was low and flat.

Neal nodded slowly, his jaw muscles pulsating with tension.

"DC just got to too peaceful for you. You just have to keep pushing your limits. Why isn't peace enough? Can't you settle down?" Sarah said, clearly hurt at being closed out from this decision.

Neal closed his eyes and calmed his frustration before speaking.

"That's not why I'm leaving. You know that. If there was any other option, I'd have taken it." He met her eyes sadly. For the first time since he woke up from that coma he actually looked tired.

"Don't let my father force you away!" Sarah said through gritted teeth.

Neal didn't outright deny that Elder Lyons' involvement in this decision. It was clear the old man saw him as a threat to Sarah's well-being in one way or another. He didn't mind Neal personally but his involvement with his daughter was something he couldn't

"I've spent a long time preparing for this. You know me and I know you. I have to try and stop them. If you were in my position you'd do the same, don't deny it." Neal's voice was low and irritated.

Sarah acknowledged this with a somber nod. "I knew this was going to happen. It was only a matter of time before one of us had to leave."

Neal looked at her helplessly. For once he actually looked his age, which was eight years her junior at 22. Their gap in age was never an issue in their relationship. When she first met him at the GNR Plaza she would have been able to accurately guess his age, but after he became a part of the Brotherhood Sarah never would have guessed he was so young. The way Neal acted made him seem much older than he was physically. Sarah knew that in the society before the war a strapping young man like him wouldn't bat an eye at her, nor would she be interested in him. But Neal was different, he was smart and driven. His skills in combat were like nothing anyone had seen before.

"I had to make a decision, Sarah. I'm trying to save everything we've worked for. Even if I lose part of myself it will be well worth the end result. The odds of success aren't high but it will make all the difference."

Sarah understood what he was saying but it didn't mean she had to like it. Neal stared at the floor again, "I wish it didn't have to be this way." He confessed.

Sarah nodded, "Me too. But I understand. Doesn't mean I have to like it though."

Neal smiled at her, "Oh I know." He looked like he was going to kiss her but he held back. Sarah was bit disappointed but she understood why he was reluctant to. Keeping a distance between them would make the coming months...or years easier to endure. Rekindling the strained relationship would only make it harder. Sarah decided it was going to be hard either way and leaned in and kissed him. His response was quite animated. He pulled back for a moment and looked at her.

"I love you, Sarah." He said softly.

"I love you too." Sarah responded with a smile. This wasn't how she expected things to go, but she wasn't about to complain. The kissing turned into grabbing and for what could be the last time, they made love.

* * *

Amata was up so early that it was still dark outside. She made her way down to the cafeteria in hopes of finding something to kick her awake. She bumped into Reilly who was mixing up something in her mug. Amata moved in beside her to see what she was doing.

"Morning." Reilly greeted with surprising crispness.

"Morning." Amata responded in a raspy voice.

Reilly chuckled a little to herself. "You better get used to this, kid."

Amata wasn't sure what she meant, but she resisted the urge to bristle at being called 'kid'. No one called Neal kid and he was only a year older.

"Want to know my secret?" Reilly whispered, feigning secrecy.

"Sure." Amata agreed.

"Neal brought me this machine back from out west. It's called coffee maker. I have it in my quarters. I'd be willing to share a pot with you if you don't go spreading it around to the rest of the barracks."

Amata realized Reilly probably hadn't seen one of these before. She made a show of making an X across her heart with one finger. Reilly was an interesting one. She was funny and quick witted, but also a great tactician and lethal with a gun. Amata decided she liked her.

Reilly smirked at the jab and started down the hall. As Amata rounded the corner, she felt a hand snag her wrist and pull her back around the corner. Reilly held a finger to her lips. They both slowly peeked around the corner to see Sarah Lyons acting as though she didn't want to be seen as she tiptoed down the hall.

Reilly ducked her head back with a devious smirk on her face.

"That's Neal's room!" she explained.

As Sarah approached they both did their best to look casual as they rounded the corner.

"So if you're going to need equipment for a stealth operation, I have a few stealth boys you could use." Reilly said, gradually raising the volume of her voice to make it sound like they were just coming down the hall when they bumped into Sarah.

Sarah offered them both a guilty smile and a simple 'hey'. She then walked away rather quickly.

Once she was gone Reilly smiled. "I knew it!"

Amata wasn't sure how she felt about the whole situation but she couldn't help but smile sheepishly at Reilly's behavior.

The merc leader then proceeded to lead Amata down the halls to her quarters where an ancient looking coffee pot steamed on her desk.

"I don't usually act like that, I swear. I'm just happy those two were able to work it out." She explained.

Amata nodded, "But he's leaving isn't he?"

Reilly looked at her grimly, "Yes. I was hoping they'd part on a good note. We can only hope he comes back."

Amata nodded her agreement and took a big swig of the black coffee. It didn't taste good but it sure helped kick the tiredness.

"Well, it's about time I went out to the gate to greet the others." Reilly said, she looked over at Amata after she sat her mug down. "Why don't you come with me? You're going to be working with these guys in the future so you might as well get to know them."

Amata agreed wordlessly and followed the redhead through the halls.

The first to approach the gates were three ghouls and a super mutant approached. One wore thick armor and was armed to the teeth, the other wore a lab coat and glasses, lugging two overfilled duffle bags. The ghoul and super mutant at the rear were both well-armed as well. She recognized those two.

Reilly turned to the nervous looking merc on gate duty and signaled him to open the gates.

"That's Murphy and his guard Barrett. He used to deal drugs, but Neal found a better use of his talents. Those two, I'm sure you know, Charon and Fawkes."

The group entered and waited for Reilly to meet them.

Reilly turned on her leader persona. "Good to see you all made it."

Murphy was the one to respond, "Thank you. Would you mind giving me some help with this equipment?"

Reilly motioned for Amata to grab the other bag. They both heaved the bags onto their shoulders. Amata felt the weight of the bag vanish. Turning around to see what had happened, Amata jumped at the sight of the hulking, eight foot tall super mutant looking at her, the duffle bag dangling from one hand like it was nothing.

"I'll take it." Fawkes said, his expression, looked like a polite smile. Amata managed to respond the smile despite her unease with the unfamiliar creature.

"Thank you." She said.

Reilly turned back to Amata, "Would you mind getting Lucy West and Billy Creel? They're supposed to represent Megaton."

Amata did what she was told, hoping she could remember who they were. She moved over towards the woman in the red jumpsuit. Amata recognized her from the other day.

"Excuse me." Amata said, since she did not recall the woman's name.

The woman turned around and adjusted her glasses.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked politely, "Is it Jericho?"

Amata recalled the merc to which she referred.

"No. I was wondering if you could point me to Billy Creel and Lucy West."

The woman appeared to think for a moment, "The names do ring a bell, but I can't put a face with 'em. Maybe I can find someone who will know." The woman motioned for her to follow. "Name's Red by the way."

"Thanks. I'm Amata"

"Amata. Never heard that name before. It has a nice ring to it." the doctor commented as she walked through the grounds.

"Here," she said, pointing to redheaded woman standing near a tent. "Her name is Nova, she'll know how to find who you're looking for."

Before Amata could say anything the woman turned and appeared to size her up. Amata did the same. Nova was a sultry sort of attractive but she had a glassy look in her eyes. The way she carried herself made her seem much older, but on the surface Nova couldn't be much older than she was. Amata got the feeling Nova must have been a drug user at one time, many wasters were.

"You must be Amata." The woman's voice was husky, she didn't sound too excited to see her.

"Yes. Do I know you?" Amata questioned.

"No, but I know you." Nova said, her tone suggested she didn't have too high of an opinion of her.

"Uh, okay…" Amata said slowly, "Do you know where I can find Lucy West and Billy Creel?"

Nova seemed to look down on her as she responded, "I do."

Amata was getting frustrated with this Nova. "Are you going to tell me?"

"No." the lady said simply, taking a drag from a cigarette and blowing the smoke at Amata.

"What's the problem?" Amata said, growing more irritable every second.

"Well, I figured since you made my life difficult I'd at least make yours a little hard too."

Amata was completely at a loss, "I've never even met you! How could I possibly be responsible for that?"

Another woman stepped forward next to Nova, she looked to be about Amata's age.

"What Nova isn't telling you is that one day our friend, Neal returned from the vault in a very depressed state. He wouldn't stop drinking. Eventually he was upset about a girl and kept threatening to kill himself. It wasn't easy." The blonde woman looked familiar, Amata guessed this was Lucy West.

"The Lone Wanderer is special to Megaton since we took him in when he first left the vault. He was injured and scared, but it didn't take him long to start taking out entire camps of raiders. Doing that saved us a lot of trouble as well as our lives. He set right to work at disarming the bomb in the center of town. He even helped me get my brother back." Lucy said, the look in her eye showed she knew what she was talking about.

Amata felt the long suppressed guilt begin to rise up from within. She kept her face neutral as she spoke, "I was sent here to get Lucy West and Billy Creel, not to argue about my past decisions. As regrettable as they are."

Nova snorted in contempt while Lucy appeared to accept this more.

"Actually, Billy's still recovering from his wounds, I'll have to do." Lucy motioned for Amata to follow. As she started off, Amata heard Nova mutter something insulting as she left. She was going to have to look into this Nova more as well as this incident she keeps hearing about.

It was strange to hear Lucy talk about Neal when he first left the vault. This was the first time she'd heard anything about Neal that wasn't regaling his bravery and prowess. It was almost a relief to hear that Neal wasn't always so brave and strong. It made him seem human…unlike now.

Amata made note of yet another group of ghouls entering the premises. She also saw a few mister handy bots and…a woman that looked like someone she knew quite well, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember who.

The meeting was about to begin from the sounds of things. The halls were filled with humans, ghouls, and even a super mutant, all seeming to be heading towards the same place.

Amata continued to follow Lucy who appeared to be nervous, for she kept wringing her hands and taking deep breaths. Amata and Lucy went up a flight of stairs and followed the others into a good sized room, but things were still a little cozy.

* * *

Neal and John were standing at the opposite side of the room to everyone else They conversed quietly while the others chatted amongst themselves. Amata noticed Reilly and Sarah talking as well, both seemed rather subdued for some reason.

Neal raised his voice to quiet everyone. Let's get started. First off I'd like to thank everyone for making the trip, I know it's not an easy one. In case you haven't met some of your future allies, I'll go around the room and introduce everyone."

Sarah was surprised at how many people Neal and Reilly had managed to bring in to this budding alliance. When he addressed the room, he sounded every bit the leader his father was and then some.

A group of ghouls were the first to be introduced. The one in the lab coat, Murphy, was the brains behind the Raven Rock operations while his bodyguard (and rumored lover according to Reilly) Barrett was in charge of security.

Another lone ghoul named Roy Phillips came as a representative of Tenpenny Tower. He admitted that although he didn't particularly like humans, mostly because of how they treated him in the past, he still pledged his support to the cause.

Neal's former companion Charon as well as the super mutant follower Fawkes were both in charge of relations with Tenpenny Tower, now under Roy Phillip's control, as well as underworld and Raven Rock. The two were so damned hard to kill through their years with Neal, it only seemed appropriate that he entrusted them to keep things civil between ghouls and humans.

A young woman stepped forward when Temple of the Union was brought up. She introduced herself as Alejandra Torres, sister to Julian Torres and former slave. She spoke very well despite her background suggesting otherwise. She told of how the Lone Wanderer had aided her people time and again against slavers and even sent her brother, who believed her dead, to see her. Though she was there in the true leader's stead, she pledged full and unwavering support.

Sarah also recognized a Megaton resident standing towards the back. The young woman, Lucy West, was the best they had for a representative with Simms being dead. Having been uprooted Sarah wondered what life would be like for the Megatonians here at the fort. It would be vastly different from having your own home, but it was better than the alternative.

It was something to see. All of the contacts Neal had made over the years finally cashing in. It was a little odd for everyone seeing the Lone Wanderer and Courier without their armor. Instead the two were both wearing tightly fitting shirts and military style cargo pants that ran the length of the leg and tucked into black combat boots. Even without true armor, both the courier and the wanderer looked like weapons. They stood with their arms folded at the other side of the room, personifying the leader look quite well.

Neal stepped forward cutting the chatter to silence. "Before we plan our attack on the Citadel, I need to give out a few special assignments. The rest of you may take a few minutes to talk amongst yourselves, but I ask that you leave this room. As the room cleared, only Amata, Sarah, Reilly, and John remained. Murphy lingered near the door, he adjusted his glasses and stepped in next to Neal.

* * *

Neal played with his pip-boy for a bit before speaking.

"Amata. To use your set of skills properly, you're going to need some training in stealth and scouting. I would recommend you be one of the first to use the Operation: Anchorage simulation to learn how to fight. It's not quite the real thing, but it's still very effective. Your job is going to be tough, but I can think of no one else who could succeed. I need you to move around the wastes and persuade the holdout groups to move to a more secure location. If they choose to stay where they are and wait it out they will be massacred." Neal's voice was grave. Judging by John's expression, Neal wasn't exaggerating.

"I know it might sound like most of your work is out in the field, but where you are needed most is here. Reilly and Lucy are going to need your help running this place. That's something you're already familiar with. At any rate I had Murphy put together recon armor. Any questions?"

Amata was humbled at the importance of her duties, but also a little intimidated at what she was up against. She shook her head indicating she had no questions. The ghoul scientist moved over towards Amata and handed her a surprisingly light outfit so she could look at it.

"The measurements might be a little off but it should work for now. I can fix when you get back if it's uncomfortable." He said curtly.

Neal appeared ready to move on to the next subject. Everyone appeared to sense this and went silent.

"Julian is also going to be running recon missions. His job will deal with supply lines and scouting. He's a good shot and knows a quite a bit about running caravans. If supply lines get cut off during an invasion, all the Legion will have to do is starve everyone out. Which is something that goes both ways, but we'll get to that later. Julian will also be helping Gallows keep an eye on the Legion progress. He has already been briefed on his duties." Neal said, shifting his attention to Reilly.

"Reilly and her rangers will be serving as expeditionary forces. While they won't see as much direct combat they will be vital. Reilly's rangers are keeping this stronghold as a functioning refugee camp as well as center for trade caravans. Her mercs will also be in charge of guarding these caravans. Her troops will work in severing Legion supply lines as well as maintaining our own. They will also provide support to Brotherhood soldiers and use their explosives expertise to its full advantage."

"As for the other places that have been recruited into this alliance, they each have their own contribution. Raven Rock will be providing a lot of tech. New weapons, upgraded armor, even some rebuilt robots. Right now they're working on putting the eye-bots back out there. Without the music of course."

Everyone laughed though it was little to ease the tension.

Reilly nodded, "We're ready."

Neal finally turned to Sarah.

"The Brotherhood will have to be the muscle of this operation as your soldiers are the most highly trained and best equipped. Things have been running short lately, but John and I have taken care of that. The Operation: Anchorage simulation will help you train soldiers faster. A friend of John's will also be arriving in a few months to consult you on a few things they picked up while fighting the Legion back west. You're entire force will need to be strong and resilient. You will lose men, there is no avoiding it unless John and I succeed in the Midwest." He stopped for a moment and let John chime in.

"Let me make this clear. The Legion is not to be negotiated with. They pillage, rape, and murder every lesser civilization they come across. Their strength is in numbers and discipline. Legionnaires do not fear death and never disobey orders, you cannot persuade them to do so. Every settlement they sack will be divided into soldiers and slaves. Able bodied men become Legionnaires, though many die in training. They do not use technology based weapons. So guns, power armor, and mines are not used. They generally attack with machetes and spears, though they do use some power fists among their high ranking officers. The weak, women, and children become slaves. The Legion is prejudiced in its policy, as no women are accepted into their ranks. They use slave collars to subdue their slaves and prevent rebellion. If they keep a captured soldier alive, which is rare, they force them to fight their legionnaires or one another in an arena. They use attack dogs not only for combat but scouting as well. They are not above using spies and espionage to advance their agendas. If any of you are ever approached to speak to their leaders, do not accept it unless you are given a golden pendant called the mark of the Caesar. Only under that premise are you to even think about entering a Legion camp. They like to surprise and ambush with numbers to make up for their lack of firepower and armor. What they don't have in technology they make up for in toughness and skill, do not underestimate them." John appeared to be finished.

Neal looked around at the small contingent. "Is everyone good?"

He was answered by a number of hesitant nods.

"Then it's time to plan our own invasion. We make preparations and leave tonight."

John exited the room and came back with the rangers, clad in their trademark green armor.

Neal looked around at the group and pulled out a hand drawn map of the Citadel and the area surrounding from a bird's eye view. He already had a few points marked.

He pointed to the remains of an overpass and maybe a toll or rest stop were just north of the fortress.

"We will rendezvous just north of this location and take it quietly. This will give us a good point to ready for infiltration. We're going to have three teams. The first team will consist of John, Gallows, Julian, and I. We will infiltrate and open the gates. The other two teams, Reilly's Rangers and Sarah will take the main gate."

Neal looked at Murphy for a moment, "Do you have it?"

Murphy smiled and nodded, hefting a massive weapon onto the table. Sarah wasn't sure what it was, but it looked something like a repurposed rock-it launcher. Neal looked over at Brick with a smirk on his face.

"Think you can carry the extra cargo?"

Brick smiled, "No problem." She said sounding almost giddy.

"What is that?" Reilly asked, staring at the bulky weapon.

Neal only smirked, "Let's just say it's a little demo of what our friends at Raven Rock are capable of."

"We don't have much to go on, but check your shots. No doubt there will be friendlies in there. There's not much cover inside the inner gate so be on your toes."

Neal looked to Sarah, "Do you have anything to add? Burke's men are dressed like Brotherhood Outcasts. So if you see black attack. Grey armor is a friendly."

Everyone appeared to understand.

Neal gave everyone a good hard look.

"We've been on the run for a long time. It's time to stop fighting with our backs against the wall. This time, we have the upper hand!"

Everyone gave a shout of support.

"Move out everyone. The vertibirds are waiting!"

John smirked and elbowed Neal as the elite group of soldiers herded from the room, everyone hurrying to get their gear on.

"Did you see those rangers? Looks like the kids are gonna get their first vertibird ride."

The wasteland legends shared a laugh.

* * *

A/N: So the last chapter is finally here. It may seem like everything is revealed, but I do have a few tricks left up my sleeve. I've been working on setting this up for the sequel which I anticipate to be a much more intense and engaging story. It will feature both the DC wasteland as well as the Midwest. Also, you will see appearances from both Fallout: New Vegas characters and Fallout 3 characters. This is my attempt it bringing both stories full circle and clashing them head on. I'm taking a risk in attempting to make a modern Midwest Brotherhood and not having played fallout 2, but I will try to make it unique. Anyways, thanks for your support and for sticking with me this far. I really do appreciate you taking the time to read this.

Beta note: I checked this at 4am, to get it out to folks. Any mistakes made are mine, not Reds. Also:

*Jedimind trick* There are no mistakes 


	19. Chapter 19: Vene, Vede, Vici

**Beta's note: Yeah, this is delayed because of me. Lack of computer meant I had to proof and edit this on my phone. Which is NOT easy. But it's here now! Have fun with it all. I tell you what, you think this story was amazing? You wait to see Part 2 ;)**

Neal and John watched as Reilly divided the groups up between the two vertibirds. She sent Macready to keep an eye on the new blood. Jericho piloted the second vertibird since he was still recovering from injury. Reilly brought Brick, Butcher, and Donovan with her on the lead vertibird. Donovan was the pilot. Neal, Sarah, and John all stepped into the bird while Amata lagged back a bit. Before Reilly could step on, Amata grabbed her shoulder to stop her.

"I want to come along." She shouted over the loud humming of the vertibird.

Reilly appeared to think it over. "I'm not sure you're ready yet."

Amata wasn't having it, if she was going to learn she wanted to see the best in action.

"I promise I won't get in the way." Amata assured her, waving a hand over her recon armor.

Reilly relented, "Fine, but do everything I say to the letter. Same goes for anyone in this bird, they know what they're doing."

Amata nodded and stepped in the metal copter. As she sat down and strapped in and heard the large door slide shut, she realized she had never flown before. Her stomach instantly tied in a large knot. She noticed Sarah and Neal were sitting across from each other, both looking thoughtfully at nothing.

Sarah looked at Reilly for a moment. "Where have you been hiding this?" Referring to the vertibird.

Reilly smiled, "We've been working on 'em for a while now. Donovan's been hard at work. We figure this is going to be the safest way to travel the wastes pretty soon. Spears and swords can't bring this bad boy down."

Sarah nodded her agreement. "You're right about that."

Amata got the feeling the Sentinel had been on a vertibird before. She looked much more at ease than Amata felt.

Neal looked over at Sarah, a memory in his eyes.

"Remember the last time we rode in one of these?" he asked.

Sarah nodded, "Yeah, it was at Adams, when I was saving your ass."

Neal smiled, "I hadn't seen you in weeks and the first thing you say is 'Surprised to see me?'"

They both snickered at that.

"I was beyond surprised to see you. I swear there was never a happier moment in my life than when you showed up and pulled me out of that mess. I thought for sure I was going to end up as a pile of ash from that orbital strike." Neal's tone and facial expression suggested he was being sincere despite his choice of words.

_Oh, Neal._

Amata couldn't see Sarah's expression but whether it showed or not, the words had to touch her. Amata was doing her best to avoid looking at them. Truth be told, she wasn't quite over her oldest friend. He may have changed and moved on, but he was still at his root driven and considerate. Not even the harshness of the wastes could break the values that James had taught his son. But just like his father, even if Neal might resent him a bit, he couldn't turn his back on those who needed him no matter where they were. It seemed he had found that in common with Sarah Lyons. She might be a harder person than he, bound by strict duty and protocol, but she was just as determined and brave as he was. Not to mention just as famous as Neal was and soon she may even surpass him. That is if she and the Brotherhood could lead the wastes through the years to come

Reilly cut through the chopper noise. "We're getting close. Turn your radios on…if you have them."

Amata followed suit as Neal, Reilly, John, and the others turned their pip-boys on. Sarah was the only one without one. She watched as Neal handed hers, it was a gesture that had more to it than met the eye. A waster's pip-boy, if they were fortunate enough to have one, was as vital as an organ.

Sarah initially refused the pip-boy insisting she's gotten along fine without one this far. But Neal insisted, not giving her much of a choice as he merely said, "Good luck." Before putting on his helmet and opening the chopper door. John followed suit on the other side and soon both Courier and Wanderer perched on the support beams that held the twin rotors. They were not close enough to the ground to even consider jumping but John's voice crackled over the comm, "Clearing the LZ." He reported emotionlessly as he and Neal both leapt from the vertibird and somehow landed on the ground without so much as a scratch.

Reilly's response made a smile rise to Amata's lips.

"Show offs." She said blandly.

"LZ clear." John reported. Both vertibirds landed and powered down.

When they stepped out of the vertibird, everyone could see they were a ways off from the rendezvous point. Neal and John looked to be heading that way already.

Sarah, Reilly, and Amata formed up with the others and headed in the direction of the rendezvous point. They left Jericho to keep an eye on the birds, much to his displeasure.

As the rest followed they came up to John and Neal who were crouching behind a half wall.

"Looks like there's at least five in there, one lookout." Neal said to them as they approached. He was looking through a pair of binoculars. "They have no idea we're here."

Everyone looked at Sarah expectantly.

"Well, what'll it be Sentinel?" Neal prodded.

Sarah looked around at everyone for a moment, looking mildly shocked.

"Why am I in charge?" She sounded surprised. "I'm not the one who got us into this mess." She said, giving Neal a nudge.

"But you're going to lead us out of it." Reilly said with a reassuring nod.

Sarah sighed, "Fine." After a moment, she snapped into her command mode.

"Alright. John you stay here and be my eyes. Keep me up to date on movements and if shooting starts, you know what to do. Reilly I want you to spread your people out in a semicircle around this half of the outpost. Don't fire until I give you the go ahead or you hear John shooting." Reilly and John both nodded.

"Permission to keep the Overseer here with me as a spotter?" John asked.

"Granted." Sarah said with a nod at Amata.

"Neal, you're with me." Sarah said.

He put his helmet on again, "Understood." His voice crackled through the mask.

Just as Neal and Sarah were about to reach the outpost shots began to ring out, but they noticed quickly that they weren't coming from the direction they had just come. The shots were coming from the east, but they couldn't make out who was firing them.

Suddenly, a power armored Brotherhood soldier materialized before them.

"We came to join the party." Gallows said, even sounding a little excited.

Sarah smiled at Gallows, "Thought you were dead."

"Not yet, anyways." He said with a shrug. "The Temple of the Union forces already retook this outpost."

Sarah nodded, "Good."

Neal rounded the corner, still holding his assault rifle at his waist.

Julian and Alejandra stood together in the crumbling building, an overpass in equally pitiful shape could be seen nearby.

"Easy there, jefe." Julian said, raising his hands in a placating manner.

Neal slung the assault rifle onto his back and took off his helmet. He moved over towards the siblings and motioned for Sarah to do so as well.

Sarah called the all clear over the radio and stepped into the building.

Soon Reilly's Rangers, John, and Amata crowded the small building. Neal, John, Reilly, and Sarah all stepped to the front and began to discuss the assault. Julian edged his way towards Amata, dragging his long lost sister behind him.

Amata smiled at him, "It's good to see you." She said happily, it felt like years since she last smiled, let alone felt anything besides apprehension and despair.

Julian reciprocated her feelings, hugging her and whispering, "I missed you." He glanced around immediately after to see if anyone heard him. He looked a bit embarrassed at the soft talk in front of a large gathering of soldier types. He noticed Amata eyeing Alejandra warily and stepped to one side to allow a better view.

"Amata this is my sister, Alejandra. I thought she was dead until a few days ago."

Much to Amata's surprise, the tired yet pretty woman moved in and hugged her lightly.

Amata was at a loss for words, her eyes trailed to Julian who gave her an equally confused look.

When Alejandra stepped back she appeared to anticipate confusion.

"I'm sorry, I'm just thankful for what you've done for my brother and I."

Amata stammered before saying, "I'm sorry…What exactly have I done?"

Alejandra smiled sweetly, though pain still lingered in her eyes, "You allowed my brother to take on a safer lifestyle. And though you may not see it, you helped make the Lone Wanderer who he is by being his friend."

Amata felt her stomach drop and the color drain from her face ever so slightly. She involuntarily glanced in Neal's direction and saw he was listening to Reilly with a serious expression.

"No," Amata said with a shake of her head, "He was born that way."

Alejandra smiled again, but didn't say anything, though she looked like she didn't believe Amata. Alejandra motioned to the ragtag group that stood among the better equipped mercenaries. "The Wanderer has helped us all. Every individual in this room has had their life changed for the better because of him."

It was true, Neal had helped so many. He was the single most influential person in the DC wastes.

But how many has he killed for each person he has helped?

Amata looked at him once again, judging by the cool, hardened glint in his eyes, far too many for one to handle without losing part of himself, especially at such a young age. Neal was desensitized from all of the horrors of fighting and death. It was easy to see for someone who knew him as a child. Neal seemed to sense her eyes on him and he briefly looked at her, his expression cold and unreadable.

_That's what I was afraid of. I played a part in making him this machine._

Neal stepped forward along with the other leaders, each went to face their people.

Reilly was the first to pipe up, "Rangers, split up into fire-teams. Donovan, Butcher, Macready, you take the lead on each. Brick you're with me and the Wanderer's friends," she said motioning to Fawkes and Charon. We're going to charge the main gate. Our job is to keep Burke's cronies busy while the door is opened from the inside. Temple of the Union is going to hold this outpost and keep an eye on our six while we're engaged. Fire-team leaders, I'm trusting your judgment on this one, so keep everything tight and we'll be alright." Reilly's Rangers all moved quickly to obey orders. The newer recruits looked more shaken than the core members of Reilly's mercs, but Reilly's words seemed to inspire them. They formed up outside the building. Charon carried his Chinese assault rifle.

Neal stepped forward, "Julian, Gallows, John, and Sarah are all with me. We're using Murphy's new toy to give us a unique angle. Fawkes, that new grapple hook and put it to good use. Wait for the call."

"Done." The super mutant answered.

"John and I are going to zip in first, followed by Sarah and Gallows, and finally Julian will go solo."

Julian looked at Neal funny, "Go solo?"

"John is going to drop me into the Citadel manually. Sarah and Gallows are going down too. You are going to stay up there with John and snipe."

Julian still wasn't following, "Stay up on where?"

"We're using the grapple hook to zipline onto that crane," Neal said pointing towards the rusty crane that loomed over the walls. It was then everyone noted the wind picking up.

"Great," Julian muttered to no one in particular, "I hate heights."

Amata was going to say something to Neal about not being included but the pain in his eyes as he passed made her think better of it. She wondered what exactly was troubling him. Maybe it was because he feared for the well-being of his friends and comrades, or perhaps the fact that he would leave soon with no guarantee of return loomed in his mind. It was likely both.

Amata still readied her laser rifle and followed Julian and the others just in case.

The majority of the Temple of the Union forces were already set up and keeping watch of the movement within the base. A man's shout could be heard from atop the building.

"We've got movement! Troops exiting the base!"

Reilly crackled over the radio, "See you on the other side guys." She said, strangely calm and resolute.

Everyone in charge responded with good wishes as well. Soon after, a mass of gunfire rang out and everyone sprang into action to aid Reilly's forces as soon as possible.

Fawkes fired the grappling hook, John, Neal, and Gallows all reached out and helped the burly woman hold the launcher steady as the hook sailed through the air with impressive speed. It looked for a moment as if the hook would sail clear over the crane neck but the magnetism of the hook fixed things. The massive super mutant took a strong athletic stance in anticipation, a number of other Temple of the Union men moved over, prepared to assist.

John quickly strapped on a harness and latched himself onto the line. He stepped close to the edge of the building. Neal stepped ahead of him and prepared to launch. Amata wasn't sure how John would manage to hold up the solidly built Neal in his heavy power armor and looked on with unease.

Neal turned and nodded to John who backed up to the end of the line and took a running start towards the edge. At the last minute, he reached out and grabbed the weapon holster section of Neal's armor and held on for dear life, grunting as he lifted the heavy load.

Everyone watched with apprehension as the magnetic latches carried them the otherwise impossible distance. Sarah and Gallows followed once John reached and dropped Neal onto the crane and unstrapped himself. He sent the latch back while Neal slid down the side of the crane, bullets pinging off the metal frame. Soon, Sarah and Gallows followed Neal down the crane. Neal and Sarah returned fire while Gallows engaged his stealth field and made for the gates.

Julian joined John atop the crane and set up. They pair of snipers immediately began picking off mercs.

"Taking heavy fire!" Reilly reported over the radio.

"Hold out a little longer, Gallows is on it." Sarah said encouragingly.

"Doing our best." Reilly responded in a strained tone.

* * *

The rubble Neal and Sarah crouched behind was crumbling under the hail of gunfire.

"We're losing cover!" Neal shouted to Sarah over the gunfire. "On it!" Sarah responded.

"Gallows, report!"

There was no response for a few beats and finally Gallows' raspy voice reported.

"Gate opening now, finding cover."

Neal reached onto his belt and pulled a frag grenade from it, Sarah did the same. They both pulled the pin with their teeth and lobbed them in the direction of the mercs. He cast a humored look at Sarah and asked, "Think we should yell frag out?"

Sarah smiled in laughter, waiting patiently for the rain of mini-gun fire to come over the area.

As if on cue the explosion of the grenade hit. The screams were muffled over the whirring of a mini-gun, but they were still there.

Neal and Sarah both peeked over the top of the concrete barricade and saw the mercs attempting to get out of the kill zone. They both began picking them off with incredible precision.

Sarah heard a battle cry to her left and she turned just in time to see a merc charging Neal's flank. She barely managed to get out a shout of warning. Neal didn't miss a beat. He didn't even turn to face the merc as he seized the front of his gun and jammed it up into the merc's face. A spray of blood accompanied the cry of pain. In a flash, Neal took out the merc's feet with a kick to the back of the knees, turning full circle and somehow drawing out his combat knife and holding it to the merc's throat.

"Where's Burke keeping the Elder? There's a trap in there waiting for us isn't there." The look in Neal's eyes made Sarah's blood turn cold. She was shocked when the merc didn't comply. He laughed despite his broken teeth and nose, the blood all over his face.

"I'm not afraid of you! What are you gonna do that my boss ain't?"

Neal slammed his fist into the merc's already shattered nose. He howled in pain and writhed about.

"Wrong answer you piece of shit! Try and talk big to me and next time I won't be so nice."

The merc still resisted. "The boss' got a chip in your head. I've got nothing to worry about."

Neal moved the knife slowly down the merc's face cutting his cheek. Then he held the knife over the man's crotch plate.

"Strike two, fucker. You don't want to see what happens next!" Neal growled.

Sarah was about to speak up when a look from Neal made her decide otherwise.

"Alright, fine. They wired the door with explosives. They're gonna blow outward and it's gonna be a hornet's nest when it opens. At least a dozen mercs waiting in there."

Neal glanced at the door and without warning, he snapped the merc's neck with minimal effort and stood. He spotted Reilly and her troops taking stock, having taken the brunt of the return attack, Neal knew there would be casualties. He purposely avoided Sarah for the moment and met up with John and Julian.

"Where's Fawkes?" Neal asked no one particular.

Reilly piped up, "He's right here."

The super mutant stepped forward with a super sledge in hand.

Neal smiled mischievously at his mutant friend and nodded towards the barricaded door. John and Julian slung their sniper rifles over their shoulders and replaced them with more practical close quarter's weapons. Julian toted a plasma rifle and John an assault carbine. Reilly and Sarah fell in along with the men and prepared for another intense firefight.

Neal took point with John and Sarah falling in on each side of him. Reilly, Julian, and the others followed along with the arrow shaped formation.

Neal signaled Fawkes to work his 'magic' on the door and raised his assault rifle in anticipation, everyone else following suit.

"Reilly, your team is going to break left, take John with you. Sarah, Julian, and I will go right." Neal ordered.

"On it. Check your targets people, they've got hostages." Reilly responded, watching the door slowly succumb to Fawkes' hefty blows.

Sarah kept her eyes downrange but couldn't stop herself from thinking of her people inside. This whole operation could end terribly if they weren't careful.

Fawkes' super sledge blasted the door from its' hinges sending them flying into the darkness of the hallway, a shout of surprise could be heard just before a loud metallic thud, followed by an explosion. Neal was the first to move into the hallway and sprinted to the downed merc and quickly shot him dead. Sarah and John checked the hallways to each side. Sarah ducked back behind the corner just before bullets hit her, pieces of the wall chipped away under their fury. Sarah blinked the dust from her eyes and fired two precise lasers at the source of the fire. She heard Reilly's assault rifle report from behind her too. John and Neal also sounded preoccupied.

"Clear!" Sarah reported. Shortly after she heard John give the all clear as well. While Reilly and her elite Rangers thundered down the hall, Sarah found her way to Neal and Julian.

"I bet he's got my dad in the solar. We should be careful." Sarah warned.

"It'll be okay." Neal reassured firmly. He turned to Fawkes, "If any of the baddies trickle out, you know what to do with them." Fawkes played with his super sledge, indicating he was ready.

Neal stopped at the doorway and quietly brought his ear up to it. He raised a hand with five fingers, indicating that there were five people in the room. He rested his thumb on his palm, indicating there were four hostiles. He collapsed all his fingers save for his index finger to indicate one friendly. Neal pulled himself from the door and looked at Sarah. "It's your call." He mouthed.

Sarah nodded and moved towards the door. She turned back to face Neal and Julian. She raised her right hand, balled into a fist to indicate a hold command. The two fell in behind her. Sarah raised three fingers signaling a countdown to breaching the door. Neal and Julian shouldered their weapons and prepared themselves.

Sarah's countdown hit zero and she kicked the door from its hinges. As she expected to see, her father being held hostage. She was surprised to see Burke wasn't there. In a blur, Sarah took aim at the merc's head poking over her father's right shoulder and sent a laser beam right between his eyes. The man didn't even have time to be surprised, for his face turned to ash before he could do anything. Sarah felt bullets whiz over both of her shoulders as two more mercs fell to Neal and Julian's fire. Sarah saw a merc in the far left side of the room attempting to charge her. His weapon was hoisted above his head and ready to swing it at her. Sarah sidestepped the swing and punched him in the face with her power fist, bringing him to the floor. Sarah didn't bother to draw her knife, she simply blasted him to ash with her laser rifle.

"Sarah!" her father called.

Sarah turned and looked at the Elder, "Father." She said, lowering her weapon. There were a lot of things Sarah wanted to hear from her father. She wanted him to explain this.

"Sarah we need to move. Reilly's team must be held up." Neal's voice called.

* * *

John jumped down on top of the unsuspecting merc from the walkway above and snapped his neck without missing a beat. Reilly had ordered a ceasefire though. John realized why that was. Burke was holding a small boy hostage. Neal and the Sentinel must be facing a similar issues. The Elder was nowhere to be seen, but yet, holding a kid hostage was just as effective. Burke held the 10mm to the boy's head. John could see the outraged looks on the restrained Brotherhood soldier's faces.

"What do you want, Burke?" Reilly called.

"The Wanderer. A deal's a deal!" he shouted, seeming to hope Neal could hear him. "You think you can double cross me? Think again!"

Neal entered the large room, "I'm here. What do you want?"

"You're coming with me back west."

"This wasn't part of the plan, Burke. I hired you to take the Outcasts, not the citadel." Neal added, knowing very well the shocked looks he was getting from the Brotherhood soldiers. He edged closer to Burke.

John noticed the kid was carefully reaching for something in his pocket, he guessed Neal saw it too, for he kept talking. John averted his eyes so as not to alert Burke to it.

"Well plans change, Wanderer, you of all people know that." Burke said, his voice quavering with anger.

"Yes." Neal said, drawing closer to Burke.

"One more step and I'll kill this kid!" Burke shouted in a feral voice.

"Fine. But Burke, the difference between you and me…is you're scared to die. And above all else, you want to live. Now I know you aren't going to kill Maxson here. Because you're in a room full of Brotherhood soldiers, the most highly trained killers in the wasteland. And if you hurt Arthur, they're going to come down on you hard."

Burke glanced around nervously, "Stay back!" he warned.

"One more thing, Burke," Neal said, getting his attention. "This is the Brotherhood of Steel. Everyone is trained from birth in how to fight. Even kids."

Burke felt cold steel slide into his right kidney. He made a low moan and released Arthur before falling to his knees. When he looked up he saw the boy holding a bloody knife. "Just like Sarah taught me!" He said, proudly brandishing the bloody switchblade.

"FAWKES!" Neal shouted. A massive super mutant carrying a super sledge sprinted down the hall and moved up to Burke. He reared back and swung with all his might, the heavy sledge moving like paper. The last thing Burke saw was the face of a metal sledge as it crushed his skull.

Sarah walked up to Maxson, "Are you okay, Arthur?"

Maxson nodded, "Did you see what I did?" he asked excitedly.

"I did. Right in the kidneys like I showed you. Great job!" Sarah said proudly. Maxson wasn't much older than she was for her first kill.

Reilly's troops had begun releasing the Brotherhood soldiers. Sarah began counting the Pride members: Dusk, Glade, Kodiak, and Colvin. There were two missing. Vargas and Gallows. She moved over to her unit and looked at them. Their expressions were rather glum. No doubt their pride was hurt after a takeover such as this. They all saluted her as she approached but there was something about their demeanor that made Sarah nervous.

"Is everyone alright? Where's Vargas?" she asked.

"We're all fine. Vargas was out at the GNR Plaza when everything went down." Dusk replied.

Sarah nodded, she would definitely have to check up on that. She looked at the rest of the troops who were watching her expectantly. After all, she was the field commander.

"Move out to the courtyard so we can stock up. Form up with your units." Sarah commanded, receiving numerous "Yes ma'am's".

The gunfire had finally subsided at the Citadel. Amata took that as her cue to move in and see if anyone needed her help. With Dogmeat at her side, she began towards the Citadel's massive gates, though they were currently open. Having never been to the Citadel (formerly the Pentagon) before, Amata gawked in awe at the mighty fortress. It was especially busy today. Mr. Handys were gathering bodies from the battle and dumping them outside the walls. The merc's stolen power armor had been stripped. Amata only hoped that most of the bodies were Burke's goons and not a Brotherhood soldier or Reilly's Ranger.

Inside the walls, Brotherhood soldiers were massing. Amata was surprised to discover that there weren't as many soldiers manning the Citadel as she thought. Though their Chapter was spread around DC it was still a bit unnerving. They would have a long way to go if they were going to stand up to the Legion, at least from what John had been describing.

A booming voice caught everyone's attention, much to Amata's amusement, it came from an elderly man. She saw him motion for Sarah to join him.

"I would like to announce my retirement from the position of Elder! I hereby pass the duty on to my daughter. Rise and greet your new Elder!" Owyn Lyons called, he motioned to Sarah, her face as hard as stone. Amata felt for her, glancing over at Neal she could see that he was sorry too. They both knew that wasn't what she wanted, but as Neal had said, it had to be so. She watched as Neal walked toward the gates, Dogmeat hot on his heels. Amata knew what was coming next, she tried to catch up.

Sarah could barely put one foot in front of the other as she moved over to her father. This is what Neal meant. This was what her father had to tell her. Sarah chanced a glance at Neal, who was nowhere in sight. Sarah felt anger building in her gut. Did she have no choice in this? Why would he keep this from her and then throw her into it headlong? She glared at her father as he smiled at her sadly. Sarah put on her best leader face and nodded at the salutes she received. She looked around her to see the entire Brotherhood standing behind her. They all looked at her expectantly. Elder. That was her new title. All of the men and women before her…their lives were her responsibility. She had been responsible for them before, sure, but this was different. She wouldn't be out among them when she gave the orders. She was the chess player as the Elder, and there was little she hated more.

"Report to your posts. I expect this place to be up and running by 0500 tomorrow!" she said sharply.

The soldiers then dispersed a few expressing congratulations as they went, especially the Pride. Sarah distantly wondered who would lead it now. She supposed that was her decision. Sarah felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned to see that it was her father's. She immediately brushed him off and looked away.

"I know you are angry, but you knew this day would come." Owyn tried.

"I tried not to think about it." Sarah spat.

"I will help you when I can." He said reassuringly.

"Yes, father. You can hide behind me at meetings." She hissed before walking off. She noticed three vertibirds landing outside the Citadel walls. She went to investigate.

* * *

Amata could feel the dread rising from her stomach to her heart. As she looked at her oldest friend and most loyal ally she could hardly stop tears from reaching her eyes. Despite everything that had happened between them, they still remained friends. They weren't the adults they had imagined themselves as children, but they were still successful in their own right. It still saddened to Amata to see what Neal had been forced to become, despite his parents' good intentions. Amata couldn't find the words to say to tell Neal how sorry she was for how she had treated him that day she cast him from the vault after returning to save it. It was her deepest regret. All she could manage was, "I'm sorry."

"I've already forgiven you." He said calmly. His eyes were surprisingly blue as they looked at her. She could tell he was having a hard time saying goodbye to everyone…DC as a whole. But there was determination in his eyes. Neal reached into one of his ammo compartments and produced an audio tape for a pip-boy. "You'll need it." Was all he said.

Knowing what was to come, Amata couldn't stop herself from throwing her arms around his shoulders and hugging him. "Be safe." She said softly.

"I'll do my best." Neal said, trying to reassure her without promising anything. He gave her one last look and a small smile before he moved on to Julian.

"Be good to Amata," Neal warned, his gaze threatening for a moment, "Though she'll never admit it, she will need your help at times. She's tough, but sometimes she needs someone to talk to. If my suspicions are correct, you've already assumed that role." Neal said with a knowing smile. Julian nodded sheepishly, casting a sideways glance at his sister, then his love interest. He watched in confusion as Neal reached behind his head, a hissing noise accompanied the sound of metal gears turning. Soon Neal was standing in only his cutoff and cargo pants. He sat the helmet, torso, and lower portion of his legendary power armor at Julian's feet. Julian fought for words and understanding.

"It's all yours now. I won't have any use for it where I'm going. You'll need it with the work you'll be doing. Make me proud." Neal said with a respectful nod. Julian thanked Neal as he moved on to Reilly.

"It's been great working with you, Wanderer. I just hope I can handle this trouble you've gotten me into." She joked.

Neal smiled and reached a hand out to her. She took it and shook it firmly and clapped her other hand on his shoulder.

"Good luck out there, Neal. Try to come home." Reilly said seriously. Neal nodded to her, noticing a boy running towards him out of the corner of his eye.

"You're leaving?" Squire Maxson asked sadly, looking up at his idol and friend. Neal went to a knee so as not to talk down to the boy.

"I have to, Art. Duty calls. I've gotta take the fight to the Legion." Neal said.

Arthur frowned, "But what about us?"

Neal kept his composure despite the boy's heart-wrenching words. He purposely avoided looking at Sarah's approaching form until he was done talking to Arthur. He reached out and put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"The Brotherhood is strong, it doesn't need my help anymore. People like you and Sarah make it strong."

Arthur shook his head vehemently, "The Pride needs you."

Neal shook his head, "No, but Sarah needs your help, Arthur. Soon you're going to be big enough to join the knights and Sarah will need a strong leader to count on. That's going to be you."

Arthur nodded, his cheeks turned a little pink when Sarah's name was mentioned.

"I won't let you down." He said resolutely, "Good luck, Wanderer."

Neal smiled at Arthur Maxson before standing. It was Sarah's turn.

When Neal looked at her, Sarah knew he had meant what he said. He was leaving. She couldn't decide how she felt about that.

"Congratulations, Elder." Neal said uncomfortably.

Sarah glared at him, "So that's what my father was supposed to tell me?"

Neal nodded, "Yeah, I didn't think he would do it front of everyone like that. Honestly."

Sarah still wasn't happy. "So now you're off on another suicide mission, and I'm stuck in a solar all day."

Neal didn't seem to like that comment, "Things... have to be this way." He said, he said sadly.

"Do they?" she asked hotly.

* * *

Amata wanted to scream at Sarah. She had been watching the exchange quietly. Though she understood Sarah's anger, she wished she could tell Sarah what Neal was about to do. For her…for everyone in the wasteland, but she held her tongue. Neal had told her that Sarah did not need to know. She would find out when it was time. Amata could hear John shout from the middle vertibird. Reilly and her troops had loaded up in the other two.

"We've got a long ride ahead of us! We need to be outta here before sunset!"

Neal looked at Sarah one last time and with an emotional weight in his voice he said, "Steel be with you, Sarah." He didn't receive a response, though he didn't appear to expect one. Amata could tell Sarah was having a hard time too, despite her anger.

Amata could see the look in Neal's eyes. He knew he would never see her again. He turned and made his way to the vertibird, his cutoff whipping in the wind of the rotors. Dogmeat left Amata's side and ran after his master, fully expecting to follow him on another adventure. Neal noticed and kneeled down, stroking Dogmeat affectionately. Amata actually saw tears in his eyes as he said goodbye to his oldest and (arguably) most loyal companion, who licked his master's face lovingly. At this point, Amata could feel tears falling down her face.

"Thanks for always being there, boy. We've been through a lot together. Now I want you to keep an eye on Amata for me." Neal said sadly, nearly choking up. Dogmeat whimpered at this order.

"Don't worry, boy. I'll be back." Neal said as if trying to convince himself as well. "Now go on."

Dogmeat barked, licked his master once more and laid in the dirt.

Neal went and stood on one of the landing gear pieces that jutted from the side of the chopper. As the bird lifted off, he watched the people below grow smaller and smaller. He watched Sarah turn her back and walk into the compound. He could still see Dogmeat laying in the dirt, watching him leave. Slowly, the DC wasteland faded from sight. He could still see the Washington Memorial with the dish hanging from the side. The sunset etched around its features and turned the pure water of the Potomac orange and pink. Neal noticed small signs of green near the banks. He couldn't help but think to himself that it actually looked beautiful. He wished he would remember it.

* * *

**So there you have it. Sorry to make you all wait so long for it. Don't abandon this story just yet. I plan to post the prologue for the sequel here in the coming days. I plan to crank up the heat with this fic and really challenge the characters we got to know here, as well as some new ones. The sequel is titled 'Glory and Gore' and will definitely be a step up from this fic. So if you liked this one, G&G will be right up your alley. Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me. You guys are what fuel my inspiration.**

**Truly,**

**IrishRed5**


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